Dark Messiah, Book one: Elements
by Kojiokida2
Summary: Heroes Might and Magic V and Dark Messiah universe: Ashan "Eons pass and the fortress shall stand, walls of spirit wrapped in walls of fire and horned lords will bow their heads to one not yet born of the Darkest Sire." Sareth's journey begins. Part 17
1. Prologue

(if you see a similar writing style to a certain other author, then feel free to attribute this work to my reading too much of the Belgariad. In any case. This is also my sudden infatuation with Heroes V and Dark Messiah. :D )

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Taken from Chaos and Order; A brief history of Ashan and its place in the Universe. Written by Tieru of the Dragon Knights.

In the beginning there was nothing.

The void, the universe, floated aimlessly without purpose or force in her body. Then the void laid a cosmic egg and from that egg, hatched twin dragons.

This was the beginning for now force existed in the universe. Order and Chaos.

Asha and Urgash.

The two came together and with the matter of the egg from which they had both hatched they created the galaxies and the stars that made them up. Planets came into being and worlds formed.

But Urgash was not satisfied. He who was chaos incarnate, strew discord throughout the very fabric of reality.

Asha who was order incarnate, countered and eventually the kinship was broken and they became bitter enemies.

Yet their mother, the universe, would not permit them to do battle upon each other directly, for such force would destroy all they had strived to create.

So they came to a single world and created for themselves avatars.

Asha strove to keep order in balance and so she made from her own power, lower gods. Elrath, the Dragon of Light, Sylath, the Dragon of Air, Arkath, the Dragon of Fire, Sylanna, the Dragon of Earth, Malassa, the Dragon of Darkness, and Shalassa, the Dragon of Water.

Urgash however would not spread his power amongst so many. His ways were more direct.

Pouring forth almost all his power, he forced his will and strength into a single avatar and all things screamed in horror at the new force that was born.

Kha-Beleth, the demon Sovereign.

To him, Urgash gave this instruction.

"Reach out your hand and take forth the heart of the Earth. Crush it between your fingers and forge a sword, a blade upon which the magic's of chaos may burn."

Kha-Beleth did as commanded and he tore from the heart of the world its molten core and forging it as instructed, gave birth to the terrible blade he dubbed Talon.

Calling forth an army of fiery beings demons, being forged from Urgash's unholy fire, he made to do war on the children of Asha striding forth with that sword of fire held high in one hand.

Fearing what Urgash would do if no unopposed, Asha spoke to her own children.

"My brother means to do war and yet we have no armies to meet him. I prevail upon thee, create for thyself peoples and raise them in arms against the hosts of chaos."

And so the battles began on the world that became known as Ashan.

Demons, Men, Elves, Dwarves clashed in wars that flamed for thousands of years. That planet that had once been quite and still now was a raging battleground.

United those early races stood yet always they fell back when Kha-Beleth took to the field. None could stand before him when he brought Talon to bear, the power of Urgash channelled through its blade.

The fledgling races, created as cannon fodder for war, suffered tremendously in this conflict and sought their own fate.

Sar-Elam, the first of the Mages, looked out upon his people in their blood soaked state and in despair cried out.

"Mother Cosmos, creator of all that is! This squabble between Order and Chaos is destroying my people. We do not wish for this to be our destiny, to be mere pawns in a war between aspects.

I beg of thee, give me the power to end this war."

The universe looked down at men, who were tired and scared in this endless war. She looked down on the Dwarves who laid in their strongholds, surrounded by demons on all sides and frightened to death. She looked at the Elves, the fairest race in form, battle scarred and lost amongst ever growing mountains of corpses.

She felt pity for them but replied to the mage…

"Even I can not end this conflict. For this is a battle not just between hosts but between Chaos and Order. Should Urgash and Asha confront each other directly, all would be destroyed.

There will come a time when this contest ends and one is chosen over the over. But it is not time yet. I will help you postpone this battle until the time of the choosing."

She then told what needed to be done.

To his side, Sar-Elam called his two Disciples, Sar-Issus and Sar Shazzar. Together, the three of them brought down the magic of the universe itself. This power surpassed both Order and Chaos and absorbing it into his being Sar-Elam became a dragon, equal almost to Urgash and Asha themselves.

With his new found power he banished the demon hordes and even Kha-Beleth into a separate reality, that of the fiery Hell men call Sheogh. With them the demons took peoples from many races, the slaves they had taken in their conquests, all were sucked into that prison to be sealed itself.

The power Sar-Elam had called upon himself was not without its price. For binding the demons to their prison it was necessary to sacrifice his own life. His blood and soul became the key that turned in the lock, binding Kha-Beleth in chains. For this he became known as the Seventh Dragon.

Yet Sar-Elam was betrayed. Sar Shazzar had been seduced cy the corrupting touch of Chaos and weakened the prison, providing cracks though which demons might escape.

For the first time, Ashan knew peace and the gods settled with their peoples now weary from the long epoch of war.

The Apostate Sar Shazzar was punished for his actions and imprisoned for the rest of his life. In that dank dungeon he remained until he grew old and feeble. In his final hours he ranted and raved and those that listened realised he was in the grasp of prophecy.

Scribes noted down his prediction that the time would eventually come when the Dark Messiah, heir to the magic's of Urgash would could and the world would tremble in his shadow and blood would flow as the prison that held the demons he would break asunder.

When he finally died and servants went to remove the body, it crumpled into dust at the slightest touch.

Arkath led the Dwarves into the northern mountains. Sylanna took the elves to rebuild their homeland of Irollan and Sylath with his favoured men founded the Falcon Empire.

Asha herself took no favoured people yet past on a unique blessing on the first king, Falcon the Great, a mark of benediction that would remain with his bloodline.

"You mark me, and all those who follow in my stead?" The king asked the goddess. "Why?"

"Because as much as the races that my children created wish it, this battle of old is not over." She replied. "The marking is necessary as such is your bloodline. Rule for as long as fate deems necessary Falcon king and continue your legacy for the world will one day need it."

The followers of Sar-Elam, led by Sar-Issus and worshiping no gods, built for themselves a nation in the sands and experimented with their magics, combining men with animals and demon blood they had collected. Thus they gave birth to Minotaur's, Harpies, Goblins, Cyclops and the valiant Orcs.

The Orcs revolted against their masters and fled to the East, coming under the protection of Sylath who they worshipped as Father Sky.

Centuries past and new peoples came forth.

The Dark Elves came into being, separatists from Irollan who carved out a place for themselves in this new world. Rejected by their brethren, these renegades found protection with Malassa and retreated underground.

The south erupted into turmoil as the Mages were caught in the grip of a civil war. A new magic had emerged and it was tearing their culture apart. Necromancy, the magic of the dead and the blackest of all mana, came forth and its wielders were a force to be reckoned with.

Yet while the races amused themselves with petty squabbles, their ancient enemy was prepared once more to strike.

During an eclipse, when the moon past in front of the sun, the barriers between the demon prison and Ashan were weakened. Enough so that armies of demons were able to breach it and emerge once more.

Although this conflict was not on the scale of the one that nearly destroyed the world eons ago it was enough to bring about upheaval and chaos.

The demons attached the Falcon Empire, destroying its capital and killing the royal family.

The Falcon bloodline, that family marked by Asha herself, was thought destroyed. Yet this was no so. The family and its precious marking did survive. In order to survive and hide in its weakened state it changed its name and became the family Greyhound Duchy.

Duke Ivan Griffin of the Griffin Duchy seized the throne in a coup, founding a new empire, the Holy Griffin Empire and turned the people from Sylath to favour the dragon of light, Elrath.

Thus it continued, each time an eclipse occurred, a demon army emerged from Sheogh to do war upon the world and each time the alliance of men, elves and mages was there to counter it.

It was then, during the war of the Grey Alliance that Alexi the IV king of the Holy Griffin Empire with his allies, Alaron of Irollan and Cyrus of the Silver cities, fought back the invasion and prepared to march into Sheogh itself to destroy Kha-Beleth.

Cyrus abandoned them at the last minute, believing the attack to be suicide and Alaron followed suite, leaving only Alexi to plunge with his knights into the flames.

Alexi did not prevail against the might of Kha-Beleth. Some in the empire have faulted the mages and elves for running away yet in truth, their aid would not have made that much of a difference. Kha-Beleth was a god and armed with the terrible blade Talon, against which none may prevail.

The throne of the Griffin Empire past to Alexi's son, Nicolai Griffin, a young and inexperienced king.

His father's victory in war seemed to ensure peace until the next eclipse and Nicolai was soon to marry his beloved, Isabel Greyhound of the Greyhound duchy one of the oldest families in the empire.

Yet before they could be wed, the sun darkened as another completely unexpected eclipse took place. Yet it was not the moon blocking out the sun. Cultists within the empire, servants of Kha-Beleth were using black magic to blot out the light and the demons marched forth once more.

In the war that followed, cities were scorched and regions decimated yet the cultists were driven out and their magic's destroyed.

Before this could be done however Nicolai Griffin was slain by the demon general Agrael. While dying in his loves arms, he past the throne to the Greyhound duchy so that she might rule as queen.

Taking advantage of the civil war in the empire that followed, the Necromancer Markal seduced the queen with promises of restoring her love back to life. He wove lies around her while consolidating his own position.

Despite the warnings of her confident Godric, Isabel allowed her troops to be used as cannon fodder for Markal's war against the Silver Cities.

Markal kept his promise and restored Nicolai… as a vampire.

Isabel was driven near insanity by her love's fate and Markal seized control of the empire.

The combined forces of Godric the Paladin Knight, the new Archmage Zehir, Findan of the Elves and Clanlord Raelag of the Dark Elves, were able to defeat the necromancer and put Nicolai to rest once more,

It was then that the extent of Kha-Beleth dark designs became clear. Before the alliance could rescue her, the Succubus Biara kidnapped Isabel and took her to her lord in Sheogh.

There that blasphemous titan committed the foulest of acts and fathered unto her a child.

Half human…

Half demon…

The Dark Messiah was born.

The alliance succeeded in rescuing Isabel from Sheogh although her mind was all but gone.

The empire was shattered and faced the long prospect of rebuilding what had been lost. All began to rebuilt their lives, making new beginnings and new homes, unaware that the days of prophecy were at hand.


	2. Part 1, chapter 1

**_Part 1_**

(Beginnings)

Chapter 1

Sareth personally, did not see any benefit to meditation. Phenrig had assured him that meditation, at least twice a day, allowed for spiritual as well as mental development.

Sareth, while not doubting the experience of his master, did not feel any wiser or more intelligent when he was finished. In fact, meditation kinda left him feeling weaker and a bit disoriented.

This he surmised was due to the fact that halfway through his regular meditation he tended to doze. Even he knew that getting a nap was not the point of the exercise but it happened involuntarily.

Outside of this snag, Sareth's life wasn't very complicated. When he was child, probably no older than five, he was sold into the service of the wizard Phenrig. He had grown up never knowing the face of his parents but strangely, that did not bother him as he supposed it should. Phenrig was neither a kind master nor a bad master.

In many ways, Phenrig was a substitute for the practical needs of a family. He had fed his young protégé well, clothed him and trained him in many arts. The body guards on the estate had taught him basic swordsmanship with Phenrig himself began schooling him in magical arts when he came of age.

"This is something you need to learn, Sareth, so please pay attention." Phenrig asked him. Sareth just leaned on his arm and yawned involuntarily.

"Forgive me master and as much as I appreciate you taking the time to teach me this… my duties around the estate amount to little more than a scullery boy. I wash pans and scrub floors. What use can I have for magic?"

Phenrig shook his head and sighed.

"Do you imagine that you'll be here forever?" He asked. "This is your education boy and education paves the way to the future. You'll never achieve your destiny scrubbing pans for the rest of your life."

"Destiny?" Sareth asked, looking up, now perhaps a little more interested.

"An over used term perhaps." Phenrig replied with a short smile. "I have plans for you Sareth. There's a great deal of potential in you that right now you can't even begin to imagine." He shook his head at the steady look of non comprehension that Sareth had on his face. "I think you've learned enough for today. It's time for you to mediate."

Phenrig was a man who seemed to be stuck in his middle ages. His hair was receding yet tied back into a small, dark pony tail behind his head. His eyes were just as dark and seemed to be oddly colourless. He wore the golden and red robes that marked him as a wizard yet Sareth knew that he was not an affiliate of the Silver Cities. Freelance wizards commanded respect in the rural areas between Grimheim and Irollan.

Sareth himself was, people observed, a man with short yet silky brown hair and dark blue eyes. He was so fare of form that he would attract the attention of very girl on the farmsteads around the estate.

Phenrig however banned him from enjoying the affects of his handsome face, preferring to direct his protégé's attention to his education. Still when the moon was clouded and the nights were dark, he would occasionally slip outside to meet the girls at a pre arranged location.

As half expected Phenrig eventually found out about it and then spoke to him quite harshly.

"While I am impressed by your mature outlook on women, I must deny you such delights until you come of age." He told him. "I was given very specific instructions about your upbringing."

This wasn't the first time he'd let stuff like this slip. Very now and then Phenrig would say something that gave little hints away about Sareth's past, about the time before the estate and the endless lessons.

"By who?" He asked.

"By a concerned individual, that's all you need to know right now." Phenrig stated bluntly, not even attempting to evade the question.

The estate itself was about an acre in size with the manor house directly in the middle surrounded by fields. The manor consisted of two side building with a main structure connecting them. The courtyard between them was a gravelled square where the merchant carts could enter and do business with the kitchen servants.

There was an old gate house with a rusty unworkable portcullis where the guardsmen slept but with the walls around it long since crumbled away, it was mostly for show.

Sareth had a room of his own just over the kitchens, kept warm by the baking pits. It was small but comfortable, with an slanted roof and a window overlooking the main square. Most of the space was taken up by the books and tomes master Phenrig gave him to study but there was just enough room left for a canvas hammock hanging from two corners.

There were rooms at the top of the manor, near the attic which Sareth was forbidden to go. The doors leading there were locked and magically sealed.

They would only open to a key Phenrig kept with him at all times and Sareth was quite sure they were immune to lock picks.

While not naturally curious, there was something about being denied access to those rooms that filled him chagrin. Some part of him, some deep territorial part, was anxious to get in there.

Those doors were the only way in and while Phenrig held the key whatever was inside was barred to him.

Sareth didn't have any real friends his own age. His duties around the estate and his lessons kept him very busy and whenever he did have free time, few boys from the homesteads wanted to be near him. This was either because of the jealously, caused by the attention the girls paid him… or there was another, deeper reason.

There was one farmstead on the far side of the fields, closer the Imperial cities, that Sareth couldn't go near. Its inhabitants would pelt him with stones the moment he showed his face, shouting angrily at him until he was forced to run away.

Sareth knew this not to be typical behaviour for the settlement as he had seen travellers go in and out without harassment.

"I don't think it's you, boy." Douglas, his swordsmanship trainer, told him when he asked about it. "Master Phenrig isn't popular there. He had a…hmm… a misunderstanding with the Priest who runs the village.

Since then, the pious old coot has been preaching to his congregation all sorts of things about him. Anyone who even associates with Phenrig is considered scum there."

Douglas had a near square face and angular features. His hair was chestnut and short, cut into a flattop military style so it kept out of his eyes.

"So you can't go there either?" Sareth asked.

"No. But even if I could I wouldn't. They're not a very nice bunch of people… too close to the cities so nasty ideas creep into their heads from time to time." He smiled ruefully. There was a sudden odd yet dark expression he was wearing that made Sareth feel a tad uncomfortable. "But they'll regret that piety."

"Why do you say that?"

"The wheel turns for everyone. They've had their day in the sun." He then looked directly at the boy. "You'll understand what I'm talking about someday."

As the years past in that quiet corner of the world, Sareth grew more and more to appreciate his studies. What had seem tedious at first was beginning now to give way and the appeal of magic and the power it gave him was now becoming a dominating drive.

Encouraging this trail of thought, Phenrig offered him new challenges to overcome and Sareth's newly acquired taste for power had him eagerly accepting each one.

"We'll be entertaining guests tomorrow Sareth." His Master told him over breakfast.

Tomorrow it would be the eve of his eighteenth birthday and during that time he would be expected to prepare himself for passage into manhood as the custom.

"A group of important people will be attending dinner and a conference here."

Sareth had noticed the servants preparing for a banquet for quite some time yet no one had told him why until now.

"Tomorrow is an important day, far more important that you might realise and it's crucial that we all be ready for it, you included."

His tone was ominously final.

"Now, once you're finished eating I want you to go down to the target ring and practise destructive magic." Phenrig continued. "Fireball spells and lightning blasts primarily, you still need experience in handing the energy flow." He reached over across the table and placed an item down in front of the young man.

It was an amulet, made of silver with a chain to match.

"What is this, master?" Sareth asked, picking it up. The second his fingers made contact with the cold metal, he shuddered, feeling something strange.

It was an odd sensation, like a shockwave that only he could feel passing through the air. His skin rippled and he let it drop back to the table.

"This is your birthday present Sareth." Phenrig continued as if he hadn't noticed. He picked up the amulet and then placed it back in his hand. Sareth braced himself but the sensation he had just felt was gone. "I might be too busy tomorrow and the day after so I'm giving this to you now. It's a special protective talisman, enchanted by only the most powerful of sorcerers.

I'd rather you not sell it, its practical value is far greater than anything you'd get for it in commerce. Should your life ever be threatened, then this amulet will summon aid for you."

Sareth looked the amulet over in greater detail. It was plain looking, apart from an image carved into its centre. Sareth was not familiar with the iconography of the image. There were runes around the outside yet they did not seem Dwarven. In the centre of the runes was the image of a woman, with her arms outstretched either side.

"Go on then, boy, try it on." Phenrig told him, gesturing with a smile. Sareth slipped the amulet's silver chain over the top of his head and the amulet came to rest over his chest.

The sensation did not return but something did feel odd. Not 'wrong' just…odd. It was similar from going from cold water to warm water.

"Ah it certainly makes you look regal." Phenrig added approvingly. "Keep it on for a while, for at least two days so the magic can bind itself to you."

"Err… yes Master Phenrig." Sareth replied sounding a little unsure. "Thank you, its very thoughtful."

"You're welcome lad. Well now, I've wasted enough of your time. Finish your breakfast and then get out there. I want to see you progress at least a little with you accuracy."

Sareth liked using magic. It was a great deal of fun and it was satisfying to know that he could do something the boys who shunned him could not. Still, he wished Phenrig would teach him spells that could aid him in his duties… such as a spell for cleaning floors or dusting shelves.

Instead Phenrig had diverted his education to the destructive and restorative arts. From what tomes he had read, Sareth knew there were many kinds of kinds and limiting his knowledge to basics spells was annoying.

Still, he supposed he should master one form of magic before moving onto the next.

What really upset him was the prospect of his birthday being overshadowed by this large event Phenrig seemed so anxious about.

The amulet was a nice enough present yet he still felt a tad ignored.

The target ring was a small ring of straw dummies held up by wooden harness a short distance from the manor in a small alcove of trees. The spot always had a golden glow to it and Sareth liked to come here, not just to practise but to clear his mind. If he HAD to meditate as Phenrig insisted he did, he would do it here.

"You still seem awkward." He remarked to the amulet around his neck when he reached the spot. The amulet did not reply.

Briefly Sareth mused on what he should practise first. His fireballs lacked power and his lightning blasts, while powerful, were horribly inaccurate and tended to miss their target.

Both needed work.

Decided on lightning, he took a deep breath and began.

Magic was not as hard as tavern talk about wizards and their great deeds made it out to be. While his own talent was raw and undirected, Sareth found that sorcery came easily to him and he could not understand why magic was not more widespread.

Cupping his hands, he directed the flow of mana within him forming it into elemental sparks between his fingers. The ball of lightning cracked angrily before he loosed it towards a waiting straw dummy. Not being made of a conductive material, the straw didn't make much of a display when the lightning hit directly into the mannequins head.

Sareth swore.

He'd been aiming for the stomach.

For the next few hours he practised the lightning, some bolts hitting close to the mark, others flying off at stupid angles and none hitting his intended target.

From what he had learned from his studies, what he was doing wrong came from the combination of mistakes his arm movement and clarity of thought. He needed his movements to be near perfect and his thoughts clear. The precise movement half of the equation was easy enough but the clarity of thought moved more difficult.

His mind refused to stay quiet and often when he tried to make it stay quiet, a billion thoughts would rush through and ruin his concentration.

He was about to try again when something caught his eye.

Glancing up, he saw a shape, fairly translucent, hovering nearby. It was sort of like mist, although very faint mist. What highlighted it were the shafts of golden light coming through the trees.

Almost as soon as he set eyes on it, whatever it was, disappeared as if it were only meant to be half seen.

Sareth shrugged it off and then began practising a spell called fire arrows. It was a very basic form of elemental magic that when used properly, could fire balls of flame from the finger tips. This spell Sareth found easily, although his accuracy with such rapid fire left a lot to be desired.

He got the desired affect however as the spell shot forth in the form of a swarm of waspish embers. It riddled the target, leaving small smouldering holes where they struck.

Despite the success of the spell Sareth sighed and relaxed his shoulders.

It will still just kid's stuff, basic spells that children in the Silver Cities mastered by the age of six. He couldn't help but wonder if perhaps Phenrig was holding him back. Surely the master was not teaching him everything about magic he knew.

There was an undeniable sigh but he did not make it. Blinking, he looked around. The mist was back, hovering directly beside him. Only now it had form, almost solidifying.

He stood there, transfixed at the sight of a young woman; properly no older than himself. She was so beautiful that Sareth was certain that his heart skipped a beat.

Her pearl skin was flawless and her raven black hair was long past her shoulders. It didn't flow but was more jagged, as if clumps of it were fused together. Her body was near perfectly shaped and her face was captivating.

It was as if very part of her were designed to induce heart break.

It was then that she noticed him looking at her. The girl glanced up, eyes wide in surprise.

"You… you can see me?" She asked in a voice that half trembled. Sareth just stood there, groping for something to say but any words he might have conjured up didn't make it to his mouth.

Without a moment's hesitation, the girl flung herself at him; her arms wrapping themselves around Sareth in a tight bear hug. Sareth half expected her to be insubstantial but more and more of her solidified and her presence was very real. She knocked him over and the two of them fell to the ground.

"Oh Sareth you can finally see me!"

Now frightened, Sareth pulled himself out of her grip and staggered backwards.

"Wha… who… what are you?"

Apparently unfazed by his dismissal of her, the girl straightened up and looked him in the eye.

All she wore to cover herself was a strange white, revealing, dress that Sareth had never seen the like of before.

"Forgive me for getting excited then my lord." She told him with a formal bow. "My name is Xana, I am your bodyguard."

"My… my what?" Sareth asked.

"Bodyguard." Xana repeated. "I was appointed your protector by the Wizard Phenrig." She gestured towards the amulet around his neck and smiled. "We are bound together, you and I, linked by the metal and the flesh."

Without even thinking, Sareth tired to remove the amulet but to his dismay he found that somehow the chain had shrunk. As if missing several links, it was now too short to fit over his head.

Desperate now he tugged at the chain but no matter how much he tried, it refused to break.

"I wouldn't bother." She told him. "The magic's already run its course. You'll never be able to take it off now." She took note of his distress and smiled. "You needn't be worried I am no threat to you. I've been watching over you for some time now."

"Why? What… what are you?"

"I'm a …" she hesitated as if unsure of how to phrase it. "…a guardian spirit. When you were first brought to Phenrig, he charged me with your care. Invisibly, I've been watching you for years."

Sareth had heard of guardian spirits. The subject had come up in his lectures with Phenrig. They were more common in the Silver Cities where they were considered a present for newborn children. Usually this task was given to Djinn but Xana did not have the characteristics of a genie.

"You needn't be so upset." She told him. "I am here to serve you as I am charged. To help you in any way I can." The formal way she delivered that gave hints that she was holding back emotion.

Judging by her emotional outburst when she realized that he could see her, Sareth imagined it was taking a great deal of self control in order to restrain herself.

"Well…" Sareth began slowly. "Does the master intend me to have a slave?" he shook his head. "I don't want that. I won't make any creature a slave."

Despite wizard schooling, Sareth had grown up in the Free City States and had inherited from them their pathos of freedom for all creatures whatever they may be.

Apparently indifferent, Xana shrugged.

"Slave, servant… it's all the same to me. I am in your service and that is all I need to know."

There was a flash of intense emotion in her eyes before she reluctantly quelled it.

"Why don't we start off our relationship with a little tutoring?" She asked suddenly.

"Tutoring?"

"I know a fair thing or two about magic as well." Her tone bordered on gloating but didn't cross that border. "Here…" She stepped closer, ignoring the rules of personal space and looked him right in the eye. "Why don't a show you a few… tricks?"


	3. Part 1, chapter 2

Chapter 2

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The next few hours past in something of a hazy blur that Sareth found hard to recall afterwards.

He could remember learning the necessary incantations for a few spells, such as shields and illusionary lights but the rest seemed to fly past, hastened by Xana's apparent disregard for personal space.

Sareth had to admit, she was attractive as spirits went and he found her straight forward personality quite refreshing but the enormity of this whole thing left him feeling dazed.

Sunset eventually came and he trudged back to the manor house. The servants ignored him when he came through the kitchen door. They were too busy preparing for the banquet tomorrow.

The kitchen was overcrowded with chefs, preparing at least five different meals that Sareth could see.

The sight, smells and noise left a heavy lump at the back of his throat.

It would be his eighteenth birthday and yet they would also be so distracted and busy that no one would so much as look up at him.

The thought was so depressing that he didn't even bother reporting to Phenrig. Instead he retired to his room and slumped himself into his hammock.

Xana followed him.

Being a spirit, she could follow him wherever he went; solidifying only when she chose.

"Oh Sareth." She breathed looking down at him. "You're not happy here are you?" It was definitely more of a question than an assessment.

Sareth paused to think for a moment and then he shook his head.

"No I'm not." He sighed. "Phenrig's been a good master but…" He folded his arms behind his head. "No… I didn't truly realize it until now but I have to leave. I have to go out there. There's no future for me in this place."

Xana looked at him and smiled sincerely.

"Can I come with you?" She asked.

"I thought you already where." Sareth asked, absently gesturing with a nod of his head towards the amulet.

"That's not what I meant. I go where the soul I protect goes but…" Xana told him and then looked a little timid. "Sareth, I've watched you grow up and I…I want you to be the one who commands me, not Phenrig."

Her choice of words did not match the intensity in her voice and Sareth blinked a little in surprise. She was holding herself back as if she were afraid of what she might say in a heated moment. So she had kept it rigidly formal and it sounded strange in that tone of voice.

"I won't tell him today… or tomorrow, I don't want to intrude on his business." Sareth began. "But when I do leave… if you want to… not because you're commanded to… you can come with me."

Her smile was like a bright sunrise.

She had not told him everything; some part of his mind gave him the insight. Yet he sensed from her a genuine sincerity. While the details were still obscure, she was quite truthful in her request to accompany him and to be by his side on the long journey that he knew was to come.

As he began to doze, he wondered briefly where they might go and what they might do.

Sareth's ambition to learn and masters magic's of any kind was one of the key driving forces of his personality and Ashan was fraught with magic. They could start their pilgrimage anywhere.

But right now that was not important. Regardless of direction he would leave and he would travel out there to grow, like a plant being taken from a smaller pot and placed into a larger one. He would find the soil he needed.

The next day was even more hectic than the first. The servants woke him at dawn, informing him to be ready for Master Phenrig's guests who were due to arrive at noon.

"Even you?" He asked, seeing Douglas enter the manor in his best clothes.

"Oh well it's a special day." The man remarked, adjusting his brocade attire to better fit him. "It's a day that a lot of people have been waiting for quite some time for."

His smile was strange as he gave Sareth a glance.

"Happy birthday." He stated and then walked off.

Phenrig was inexpressible for the entire morning and as Sareth watched the hurried last minute preparations, he was filled with a sense of growing peril.

Something felt wrong.

He couldn't explain why but some instinctive thing at the back of his mind warned him of some danger that he could not perceive.

The guests began arriving at noon as predicted. They were a varied group from across the region, along with some from further a field.

Phenrig finally came out of seclusion to great his guests as his doorman announced each one. He greeted them each personally and soon a large crowd began to gather and chat amongst themselves.

It wasn't long before there was a new visitor who caught Sareth's attention. The door man stamped on the floor with his staff and all heads in the room turned his way.

"The house of Phenrig welcomes Lord Thralsai of Clan SoulScar."

Sareth had never seen a Dark Elf before. Dwarves occasionally came south to trade and once or twice an Elven hunter from Irollan crossed the border to stalk deer. Sareth found himself staring.

From what he had read, Dark Elves were supposed to have pale skin yet this man's skin was a soft skin, blotchy in places an as he moved closer Sareth could see that this were old marks from a vicious scorching.

The elf's face was angular, almost hawkish and his eyes seemed to be in a near permanent squint. His hair was long and silk like, tied back into a pony tail yet also allowed to trail down either side of his had.

Thralsai wore little in the way of acceptable human clothing, save for a pair of leather pants that connected with his boots seamlessly. All he wore on his chest was a gauntlet and shoulder pad of blood red plate armour.

There was a deep, unmistakable and repulsive aura about him that Sareth instinctively disliked.

He was accompanied by two bodyguards, Dark Elves with hoods drawn up over their heads so that only their long ears stuck out either side. Their faces were also concealed by dark wrappings. Cloaks kept most of their bodies hidden the light from the sun glistened on plate armour, hidden just underneath.

"Ah Thralsai, welcome to you on this most auspicious of occasions." Phenrig welcomed him. "As always, the SoulScar prove their loyalty." The wizard offered his hand forward.

With a look of utmost contempt, the Dark Elf batted his hand aside.

"Don't patronise me, old man!" He sated in a raspy voice. "We are considered the lowest of the faithful despite all we give for the cause. All other servants are rewarded, given promise of aid while we are used as cannon fodder.

We should never have to prove our loyalty."

His outburst seemed to take Phenrig by surprise a bit.

"My dear Clan lord, never has any of us questioned the devotion of the SoulScar. I was merely remarking upon your steadfast dedication to duty."

Thralsai did not look impressed by his rebuttal.

"Bah, you forget Phenrig… my spies are some of the best in Ygg Chall, I know precisely what is said of us amongst closed circles." He spat on the spot between the wizard's feet. "I am here, only because I serve the Master, not because I want to swap false courtesies with some pompous wind bag who merely earned the master's favour by sheer luck."

He then turned his back and walked off, ignoring the spluttering look of annoyance Phenrig's face that bordered on red anger.

Sareth had seen his master angry before but this seemed wholly different. There was a bit more beyond the anger that it took a keen eye to see. There was hate there.

Guests continued to arrive one after the other and Sareth could not help but notice their sudden variety. Dark Elves from various clans came but they tended to keep to Thralsai's company sending distrustful glances out into the growing crowd.

Men from the Empire began to turn up as well.

The two apparently most important were a pair that Phenrig referred to as Andreas and Lorenzo. It was clear the two were father and son as their similar facial features gave their ties away. The only feature that separated them was the beard that the more mature Andreas wore.

Sareth watched them from the stairs.

"These are a lot of people." Sareth remarked as Xana faded into existence beside him. "What's Master Phenrig's connect with them all?"

"They're colleges." Xana replied, glancing through the wooden rails down at the guests who by now numbered more than thirty. "Phenrig was mutual interests with quite a few people and he seeks to ally with them to further his own ends."

"Even Dark Elves?" Sareth asked, gesturing with a nod of his head towards Thralsai separate group.

Xana shrugged with a smile.

"You'll be surprised where you might find allies." She told him.

The announcer banged his staff on the floor one last time.

"The house of Phenrig welcomes Lord Menelag of the Free City of StoneHelm and his Niece, Lady Leanna."

The two that entered caught Sareth's eye the most out of all the guests.

Menelag was a wizard of the Free city states, like Phenrig and wore the same red and gold robe. He was much older however with a near completely bald head. He was also thinner and his skin marked by all the signs of a man in his late sixties.

Leanna, his niece, was something that caught his eye.

She was perhaps a little bit younger than him with short strawberry blonde hair set in a parting. Her attire was that of an apprentice wizard, with a short white top and jade skirt. A short formal drape was tied by golden silk across her right shoulder that was embroidered with arcane markings.

Her cheeks had a rosy tint to them and her eyes were sapphire and sparkled like early evening stars.

"Sareth, you're eyes was wandering." Xana told with a stiff note of disapproval in her voice when she noticed that he had been watching this new girl for an extended period of time.

"What? Oh, sorry." Sareth began, blinking and looking away. He was about to excuse himself when Master Phenrig called him over.

"Sareth, come here, I'd like to introduce you to an old acquaintance of mine." Sareth respectfully obeyed and was introduced to Menelag, the wizard of Stonehelm and its ruler.

"Ah so this is Sareth is it?" Menelag asked, looking down at him. The old man had at least a good foot of height on him and now that he was closer, Sareth could see a hint or two of Elven heritage in his face.

The features seemed most prominent in Leanna who stood beside him. Her face had an angular shape that as characteristic of a Slyvan elf yet had none of the more radical Elven features.

"I must admit Phenrig; you've done a good job of raising the boy." Menelag placed a hand on Sareth's hand and his expression went vacant as if he were concentrating on something else.

Sareth felt strange, as if he were being studied from the inside out.

"And he has the gift." The old man stated after a quiet moment, removing his hand. "Natural magical talent, I imagine his potential to be quite something spectacular."

Phenrig managed a short laugh.

"As much as I'd like to take all the credit, much of it is the boys own latent power. I simply coaxed the ability to control some of it out of him."

"If you'll excuse us lad, your master and I need to talk business." Menelag told Sareth, ushering him quickly to the side. "Leanna, would you be as good as to entertain Phenrig's pupil for me?"

"Of course Uncle." The girl replied with a short polite bow before she drew Sareth off to one side while Menelag and Phenrig disappeared into the crowd to talk.

"You're the talk of the Mages in StoneHelm you know." Leanna told him when they reached a relatively quite corner. "My uncle has been receiving reports on your progress in your studies for five years now."

"He has?" Sareth found that surprising. "Why?

Leanna shrugged.

"Possibly he considers taking you on as his pupil. You are of that age where you can make the decision of which master you wish to study under for your advanced education."

"I've been giving that some thought." Sareth admitted nodding his head a little. "Although I don't see why I'd be of interest to so many. I'm certain I'm not the best student in the world."

"My uncle did just say you have potential." Leanna told them and then her eyes brightened. "I understand you're good at elemental spells?"

Sareth nodded.

"Lightning, fire, that kind of thing yes." Then paused to look her over with a more professional eye. "You're a mage yourself?"

"I am." She replied with a short nod. "My uncle's been schooling me in Summoning Magic."

Summoning magic was an area upon which Sareth's education had only lightly touched.

He knew the theory behind it but thus far he had not had the opportunity to learn any of the spells.

"Perhaps we'll have the opportunity to exchange notes some time." Leanna told him with a hopeful gleam in her eyes. Before either of them could say anything more, Sareth heard Phenrig calling for attention.

The conversation amongst the occupants of the dinning room died out. Phenrig stood on a stool so he could see them all.

"My friend and allies, welcome this glorious day to the house of Phenrig." He began in a diplomatic tone. "This evening, allow me to show you the hospitality of my home with a banquet fit for all the faithful, a prelude to the coming glorious hour that we have all waited so long for."

"Do you have any idea what he's taking about?" Leanna asked, whispering to Sareth.

Sareth just shook his head. "My uncle certainly got himself involved with some strange people." She added.

"A meal is all well and good, Phenrig." Andreas, the Imperial began, running his fingers through his beard. "But given tonight's significance might we all assembled here not first behold that which we came here to witness? The fruit of the long labour?"

There was a murmur of agreement amongst the crowd. Phenrig shrugged and then looked past them.

"As you wish. Sareth, would you come here?"

Sareth froze, feeling the eyes of everyone in the room on him. He felt uncomfortable, being the sudden centre of attention. The expressions on their faces were strange, an odd mixture of awe and curiosity. Sareth began forward, a little slower than he'd intended. The gathered crowd moved out of his way, melting aside as if he were royalty.

When he jointed his master's side, Phenrig placed both hands on his shoulders.

"Ladies and gentlemen… this is Sareth." He told them in a voice that wavered on the edge of religious ecstasy. "I'm sure that you all know him."

Sareth felt detached, unable to understand the reality of what was going on. Why were all these people, gathered from what looked like the four corners of Asha, bowing to him? Even the Dark Elves, who Sareth had the impression of utmost defiance from, bow themselves low in his presence.

"Master…" He started, casting a confused glance up at Phenrig.

"It's alright Sareth; all will be made clear to you tonight." The wizard whispered into his ear so that he could not be overheard.

He then straightened up and gestured towards the large oak table where the first courses were all being laid.

"Come now my friends; let us celebrate this day in each others good company."

The meal laid out for them was one of the best Sareth had never seen the cooks on the estate prepare. There were dishes and delicacies laid before them that Phenrig would not even have prepared for envoys.

Sareth sat near the head of the table beside Leanna and her uncle. Phenrig sat the head and announced each course as it came with great enthusiasm.

Sareth found that any appetite he might have had for the meal had gone. Despite the food before them he knew that people were looking at him and he grew more and more confused as the hours began to tick by.

It began to grow dark and the sun dipped low the sky. Sareth noticed that every now and then, the guests would glance out the window as if gauging how much light was left as if they were expecting something to happen.

"Excuse me, I need to attend to our horses." Leanna stated, making the excuse to Phenrig once desert was being served.

"Oh, leaving early are you Menelag?" Phenrig asked, casting a glance over towards her uncle.

"I have to be back in StoneHelm by the weeks end." The old man shrugged. "I don't expect tonight's business will take too long. Not if we get right down to it."

"Tonight's business is simple, beautifully simple indeed" Phenrig agreed, raising his glass and swirling the wine "But this is just the beginning." He raised his glass higher and made a toast. "To beginnings."

"To beginnings!" The guests repeated loudly and with great enthusiasm and drank from their goblets.

Leanna left, casting a glance back at her uncle when she reached the doorway. Menelag nodded once at her and returning the gesture, she left.

She did not come back and Lorenzo gladly took her desert as well.

"The hour grows late." Andreas began.

"It is almost time." Thralsai agreed with a swift nod. "The night's zenith approaches." An impatient look crossed the elf's face. "Why wait? I say we start now."

"Patience." Phenrig told him with a sideways glance. "We've already waited for thousands of years. Another couple of hours aren't going to make a difference."

It steadily grew darker. There was no moon tonight and it was pitch black outside the windows. Not even the stars seemed to penetrate that dark abyss.

Sareth sat there, feeling a strange building excitement build inside him.

There was an undeniable sensation that something was going to happen. He had felt this before but not so acutely.

Something was great importance was going to happen. He didn't know what but whatever it was… its importance was clear in the growing fear in his soul.

"There…" Phenrig began suddenly. "There is one hour left until midnight." He stood up and gestured to all those gathered here. "It is time for us to prepare. Are we ready?"

There was a thick sneer on Thralsai's face.

"I have been ready since the day I was born!"

"Sareth, come with me." Phenrig began and before he could say anything, the wizard was ushering him out of the room. Once they were outside alone in the hall, Phenrig faced him. His face was as hard as flint, his eyes suddenly dark.

"I want you to send this next hour in meditation." He told him. "Your mind must be clear of all thoughts and pre conceptions."

"Just what is this?" Sareth asked, finally loosing patience. "Just what is it all of you… these people here, want from me?"

"What we want from you is your help." Phenrig announced, putting on an expression of feigned sincerity that Sareth spotted as fake instantly. "Once your meditation is complete, go upstairs to my private rooms. Knock three times and you will be allowed to enter." He dismissed Sareth and then went off with the other guests.

The boy did go back to his room but he did not meditate.

Instead, he took what meagre possessions he had and gathered them up into a canvas bag. He packed his books and clothes, along with a few scraps of food he had snuck up from the kitchens a week ago.

It was a meagre set of supplies but it would have to do.

"You're leaving… now?" Xana asked, her form appearing there beside him as he did up the bag.

"I've had enough of this." Sareth told her. "I don't know what these people are here for but I don't want any part of it."

Xana looked at him with large eyes.

"You're scared" She remarked. Sareth paused for a moment.

"Yes." He admitted. "This scares me. Phenrig scares me. All of those people down there scare me.

I thought Phenrig raised me out of kindness, but no, it was only because he had some purpose for me in mind.

If I ever want to grasp my own future I have to leave, now."

He looked up at her.

"You are going with me aren't you? Just like you wanted?"

Xana stood there looking confused. There was indecision clear on her face. She did not know what to do or to say.

"Yes." She started eventually in a quite voice. "Sareth… I was tasked with seeing you were safe and if you feel that you are not safe here then I shall help you leave."

Sareth finished packing and strapped his bag onto his back. If he was going to leave without being noticed then it would have to be by a servant's entrance. He knew the lands around the estate well so if he was chased, as some part of him instinctively knew he would be, he could evade pursuit and hide.

Those ideas were cut short when he opened the door, only to come face to face with the dark elf Thralsai.

Without a word, the elf rapped him across the back of the head with lightning fast reflexes. The blow caused Sareth's vision to blur and as if all the strength had gone from his body, he collapsed with a loud thud to the floor.


	4. Part 1, chapter 3

Chapter 3

He remained conscious but could not see or think clearly. Everything was a shocking blur. He tried to move several times, he thought, yet somehow thy attempts came to nothing.

"What is the meaning of this?" He thought he heard Phenrig say as someone dragged him up a flight of stairs.

"He was trying to run away. Seems your pet wasn't as tame as you led us to believe." Thralsai's raspy voice muttered.

"Hold your tongue, dark elven worm!" Someone else declared, probably Lorenzo. Sareth tried to clear his eye and looked around but all he could vaguely make out were a dozen or two shapes standing in a circle around him.

"He's here now and the time is right, isn't that all that matters?" He heard Thralsai say. "Now are we going to argue or are we going to get on with this?"

Blinking, Sareth managed to banish some of the fog from his mind.

The shapes solidified and glanced around, he was met by a sight of unspeakable horror.

Many of the guests Phenrig had welcomed into his house stood there, each of them holding one of the manor's servants in their grasp. The maids were weeping uncontrollably and one of the butlers had wet himself.

Knives were pressed against their throats, holding them still.

Even Douglas was holding a woman, an eager grin on his face, his knife pressed against her throat.

Sareth had been brought to the upstairs rooms where he had never been allowed to set foot before and now he could see why. The walls…they were covered in dark stains, the old dried remains of spilt blood. The ceiling and floor were engraved with markings, carved by a knife and bathed in blood.

Ceremonial fires burned in each corner, each filling the room with a thick smell of incense.

"I would have preferred this historic moment to be more civil, but so be it." Sareth whirled around, sighting his own master. Phenrig stood before a wooden stand upon which a large tome sat, open to the middle. Menelag stood to his left, holding a bow of herbs that were quietly smouldering with a different fragrance than the fires.

The boy tried to scramble to his feet but his head swam and he collapsed back to his knees.

"The time is right, let the chosen be surrounded by blood!" Phenrig commanded, gesturing wildly forward.

"No!" Sareth cried out but the guests ignored him as a one they cut the throats of their hostages, blood spurting off like fountains to coat the floor in red. As scarlet droplets scattered across Sareth's, he recoiled from this horror only to be shoved back into the centre of the ring by Thralsai.

Phenrig turned to the book as the blood of his sacrificed servants began to flow, pouring into the carved groves on the floor forming an arcane circle around Sareth.

He began speaking rapidly, talking in a strange language Sareth had never heard before.

It was a low, quick rasping language that sounded more natural if it were to come from the mouth of a snake.

Those gathered around the boy negligently tossed the bodies they were holding away and with their hands still stained in blood they descended each to one knees and began chanting in pray.

"Krwa le Urgash, wala hisraah." That one phrase over and over ago began echoing throughout the room.

That name… that terrible name… Urgash, the unspeakable thing, the dragon of chaos the source of all evil.

There were only two circumstances were people muttered the name Urgash, in fear… or in ceremonies. Dark ceremonies …

Demon Rites.

Sareth began to feel cold. It was not the cold of the night thought but rather an in piercing coldness that seeped past flesh to the very soul.

"Awaken!" Phenrig declared suddenly, throwing his arms wide.

There was a sudden surge and instantly the ring of blood seemed to be on fire, burning intently yet there was no heat. Highlighted by the flickering embers, Sareth began to breathe hard, all strength from his lugs seeming to drain away.

He was feeling sick and the horrible sensation only grew worse and worse with each passing moment. It was more than just the sight and smell of the blood around him, it was something far worse and for the first time Sareth knew the how tight fear could grip at a man's soul.

Clutching at his chest, he doubled over.

"Xana, it is time." He heard Phenrig say and glancing up, he saw that standing before him as the spirit who had been bound to be his guardian. Her face was utterly emotionless, as if she had willed all feeling down and locked it inside herself. "We have done what was intended of us… the rest if your task." The wizard commanded. "Now, tear out the human soul!"

Slowly, Xana knelt down and laid a hand softly on his shoulder. Her touch felt like a hook, sinking itself into the essence that was his very self.

"Xana…" He breathed to her, his no more than a whisper. "Please help me…."

Her face twitched as some of her iron clad control slipped.

"I… I have to." She replied but her tone did not reflect the sentiment.

"Please…" He begged again, the cold reaching so deep into his very being he felt every part of his being going numb.

Xana looked at him once and then snarling, she withdrew her hand and whirled around to face Phenrig.

"What do you think you're doing?" The wizard demanded of her angrily.

"I won't do it!" She told him. "I won't!"

"You won't…" Phenrig sounded stunned. That past and then the anger reasserted itself. "You won't?! You cast your defiance as us NOW?! Of all times? Need I summon the visage of the Master to reprimand you?"

Without warning, Menelag dropped the bowl he was holding and lashed out; kicking Phenrig aside from the old book.

With a single command of magic, the fire ragging across the blood dissipated and the smoke filling the room began to ebb.

"Traitors!" Thralsai hissed, drawing his sword. "We are surrounded by traitors!"

Xana looked up at the elderly wizard in surprise.

"If you care for them, then sustain him!" Menelag told her. "Get him outside! Quickly!" He turned and with a gesture, cast a bolt of crackling lightning at the ritual participants.

Phenrig struggled to his feet and with a scream of inhuman rage, he threw himself at Menelag as he draw a dagger out from his robes.

Sareth didn't stay to watch them fight. The ritual had been interrupted and the coldness was gone. With a speed that surprised even him, he bolted from his crouched spot on the floor and towards the door that lead down a flight of steps.

The blood was seeping out from underneath the door and down the steps, dripping down like a crimson waterfall.

Several of the cultists tried to stop him but he shoved them forward as he ran and together they tumbled down the stairs and Sareth, already in an unhinged state of mind, saw himself suddenly coated in blood.

Panic gripped him and irrationally he ran down the hallways and finding the first window he could, he hurled himself through it.

"Sareth, no!" Xana's voice echoed his in head far too late. He was already in the air, falling with a show of glass until he landed with a loud painful thud on the slopping roof just above the manor's main entranceway. Several shards of glass stuck in him but he ignored them. He rolled unceremoniously down until he toppled off the edge.

The ledge had broken his fall and the drop from the ledge to the ground was not far but it still knocked the breath out of him.

"Quickly, over here!" Sareth looked up.

Leanna, Menelag's niece, was there on horseback. She galloped her mount forward and wheeled around, grabbing Sareth by the arm and pulling him behind her in the saddle.

"Hold on tight, they're after us!" She told him, snapping at the reins and directing the horse down towards the old gatehouse. The horse whinnied loudly and began to run.

Sareth looked back as Thralsai and his dark elves burst out the entrance, followed quickly by Andreas and his imperial men.

"They're getting away!" Thralsai declared, jabbing a finger at the fleeing horse.

Leanna's horse already had them out the gate before their pursuers could reach their own mounts. Galloping as fast as it could, the horse ran through the early morning darkness and eventually the thundering sound of pursuit began to echo behind them.

"Uncle, are you there?" Leanna began, placing her hand on the front of her brow while struggling to keep the other hand on the reins. "Are you alright?" She was silent for a moment. "Good, I understand. I'll see you at the camp."

Then she looked back at Sareth.

"Are you hurt?" She asked.

Sareth had had time to gather his wits, although it was taking a great deal of self control not to vomit on the spot.

He pulled a piece of glass out of his side, grunting loudly.

"I'll live." He remarked, holding onto her tight so he didn't fall off. Right now he was suffering far more from mental and spiritual blows than anything physical.

"We'll talk later, I promise." Leanna remarked. "But now we have to loose…"

A bolt shot overhead, narrowly missing them by only a foot. The Dark Elves were right behind them; Thralsai in the lead as one of his elves was busy reloading a crossbow.

Leanna tugged on the reigns of her horse and pulled them off the road, darting through the undergrowth as if she hoped to loose them amongst the brush. The dark elves followed without hesitation.

Sareth's attention however was fixed on the figure riding just behind them. It was Phenrig, his master, who had betrayed him. An expression of intense loathing and hate was etched into his features and in that stark moment Sareth realized he was seeing his master as he truly was.

It was as if a veil had been lifted from his sight and he stared upon the ugly truth.

Menelag had not kept the wizard long before affecting his own escape and now he was in pursuit of his fleeing protégé.

"You will not leave boy, I will not permit it!" He raised his hand and instantly he body was surrounded by a powerful golden glow as he focused his mana. Sareth recognised the spell that was being cast and acting on instinct he swung around in the saddle and raised his own arms to ward it off.

The incantation that Phenrig cast at him was an Eldritch Arrow, a focus burst of magic forged into the form of a spear and then cast. It was an effective elemental spell and Sareth was able to slap it aside, erecting a barrier behind them with a shimmer of light that knocked the magic arrow up harmlessly into the sky.

"We'll be safe I we can make it between those two rocks!" Leanna declared and looking back, Sareth saw that stretching over a natural pass were two large boulders, one half fallen to rest against the other.

"They'll just follow us!" Sareth called out.

"They can try." The girl shouted back. "Trust me. Just keep their projectiles off us until we pass through."

Given his lack of options and anxious fear, Sareth complied and hardened the barrier he was maintaining as Phenrig zealously cast bolts of magic after them. He could do nothing about the Dark elves and their bolts however, that problem had to be solved by Leanna's horse riding skills.

With the wind whipping past them, their horses made it through the rocks and to Sareth's amazement as soon as they did the foliage around them rose up.

False coverings made from dead leaves fell away and men rose up from underneath, holding drawn bows at the ready. It was only by the light of his glowing shield that Sareth could see that these men had pointed ears and fair creamy skin.

"Loose!" One of them declared in an accent that betrayed origins of Sylvan Elves. A barrage of arrows shot forth into their pursuers and the horses they were wielding carried out, some in panic and others in pain. Two dark elves were thrown from their saddles with arrows sticking out of them.

Thralsai swung his horse back, narrowly avoiding the barrage and cursing loudly at the elves who blocked their path.

"Neutered Sylvan mongrels!" He hissed, spitting at them. "Phenrig, destroy them!"

Phenrig seemed only two happy to comply, raising his arms to strike at them with a burst of magic.

Before he could mutter any sort of incantation, the leader of the elven ambush drew two arrows from his quiver and fired them both together. His aim was perfect. The arrows whistled through the air before hitting both their targets with millimetre precision.

With both hands impaled by arrows, Phenrig cried out in pain as blood ran freely from his now paralyzed fingers.

"Take up arms against us now that your wizard is useless, coward!" The elf declared, casting his defiance at Thralsai. "Challenge the wrath of Sylanna if you dare."

"You can not have him!" The dark elf snapped, his entire body shaking with hate. "He is not for you! He was promised to us and only us!"

He spun his horse around and galloped away, leaving his dark elves and their own horses to rot where they fell.

Phenrig stayed, holding his ruined hands out in front of him.

Sareth watched him with an involuntary wrench of pity within his heart. For all that had just happened, this was still the man who had raised him, shared his home with him and trained him.

That pity disappeared when their eyes met across the distance and Sareth could see the hate brimming in them.

Without a word he wielded his own horses as best he could with the arrows in his hands and fled, galloping off into the darkness.

There was a wrenching in Sareth's soul at that, as if the act was a symbolic representation the tearing away of an innocence Sareth had never known he had, childhood things come in a baptism of blood, fire and terror.

It was all finally too much.

Dropping out of the saddle he fell to the ground and emptied his stomach loudly.

"'Tis a delicate friend I fear you have riding with you this night." The elf remarked. He was of medium height with angular, almost human features. His eyes were sea blue and the strands of hair coming down over his face from underneath his cowl. His hood and cape was over strewn with leaves, a garment that would allow him to hide far better amongst the forest floor.

"They'll be back with reinforcements soon." Leanna remarked trying to ignore him. "I thank you on behalf of my uncle I thank you, Wyngaal, for your assistance."

The elf inclined his head.

"Think nothing of it m'lady, but where is lord Menelag?" he asked with a worried note in his voice "I thought he was coming back with you?"

"Things got a little more complicated than expected." Leanna admitted. "But let's discuss that at the camp, before they have a chance to summon aid."

"Ah a fine suggestion." Wyngaal replied and made a serious of hand gestures to his elves. Within moments they had take up their equipment and were ready to move out.

"Sareth…" The young girl started, hopping off her horse and kneeling down by his side. "Come on, we have to move."

Sareth drew the back of his sleeve across his mouth but just kept staring at the ground.

"Look, I know this might sound harsh but you can do this later. Right now we have to get out of here."

She pulled him roughly to his feet.

"Alright, alright... let's go." Sareth muttered, staggering a little but he managed to get back on the horse.

The Elf Wyngaal led them off the roads and into the wilderness, deep into the woods that blurred the border of the empire with that of forests of Irollan. He knew many tracks through the tall trees and he led them confidentially even in the darkness.

Eventually they past into a dark grotto. It had sharp angled canyon walls leading up either side, covered in moss with a carpet of dead leaves strewn across the ground. The concealed valley was lit by a small growth of mushrooms, luminous in the darkness.

The camp was hidden amongst some roots that grew out of the rocks. No trails led up to it and its hidden position left it hard to spot from the outside.

"Can we risk a fire here?" Leanna asked as they dismounted the horses.

"A small one, make the fire pit quite deep." Wyngaal replied. "Just enough flame to keep warm until morning."

He proceeded to post his elves on watch, directing them with hand signals. They scrambled up into the trees with great agility and sat in the branches, perfectly camouflaged amongst the leaves.

Sareth dropped himself down beside the embers as Wyngaal pushed old bits of dead foliage into the bottom of a small fire pit and then set about lighting it with two small pieces of flint. He the rush of adrenaline and fear was beginning to wear of, he could feel the pieces of glass he had rolled over quite keenly and he was bruised from head to toe.

"Let me have a look." Leanna remarked, helping him pull off his jacket. She winced at the sight of the glass sticking out of his back. None of it was too deep but there was enough stuck in him to make it look a lot more serious than it actually was. "I know a few spells of restoration." She added shaking her head slightly. "I can heal this but we'll have to get the glass out first."

Wyngaal had a look at the injuries.

"Ah, 'tis nothing serious." He remarked. "Let me get yah a pair of tons. They'll get those big pieces out."

The process of removing them wasn't that painful but Sareth winced once or twice as they got to work. While they were busy, he laid a hand on the amulet he wore around his next and spoke softly into the dark reaches of his mind.

"Xana." He began.

There was no reply but he felt a surge of emotion from some nearby source.

"Xana, are you there?" He asked again.

There was another moment of silence.

"Yes…" He voice eventually came back. "I am here."

There were millions of questions in his head, all of them buzzing around in a confused daze and when he stopped for a moment to think about it… he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to hear the answers from her.

He wanted to get his head and damaged spirit sorted out before he attempted to untangle the mess of questions and answers.

"I'll talk to you later." He said, but in a way that assured her that there was no malice intended towards her.

Despite it all, he could not blame her for her part in that terrible ritual. She had shed no blood there, unlike Phenrig.

That was difficult to swallow. He still could not understand how his Master could have been, in reality, so evil. For there was no other word for the hideous rite they were attempting to perform other than 'evil'.

"There we go." Leanna stated, removing the last of the glass. Sareth shivered as the action of pulling the shard out hurting more than having it in.

"You've a strong sturdy back lad." Wyngaal laughed. "You'd make a good elf."

"I hope you'll forgive me if I don't share the mirth right now." Sareth commented. Wyngaal's eyes grew a bit uneasy coughed into his fist.

"Yes of course." He remarked apologetically and rose to his feet. "I'll leave you two alone. I'd just get in the way when magic's concerned." He bowed slightly to Leanna and made off to check on the horses.

"I hope you'll forgive Wyngaal, his sense of humour is good but the timing of his jokes needs a little work." Leanna explained and then gently laid her hands on Sareth's back. "Healing this will only take me a minute."

"Very well." He replied. "I suppose we can talk now?"

The girl made an affirmative noise and Sareth felt a strange tingle. She was working her spell, gently touching each one of his wounds in turn and allowing some of her mana to slip into them.

"What were they doing to me?" He asked, blurting out the one question that needed answering more than others.

"I don't pretend to know much about the peculiars of demonic rituals." She replied. "What your purpose was in their practise, I can't say but you were paramount to it. That's why my uncle and I had to get you out of there, before it could be completed. It's likely the ritual could have cost you your life."

Sareth did not want to think about that aspect of it.

"My uncle has been working for some time to uncover the cult and pinpoint their key members." She continued. "We knew a few of the Dark Elves were party to it but we didn't suspect Phenrig until quite recently."

"But you blew your own cover." He stated looking back, realising it just as he spoke. "To save me?"

"Are you complaining?" She asked back with a radiant smile. "Besides, we were able to identify all those people who attended the gathering as worshippers of Urgash and Kha-Beleth, with at knowledge we'll be able to put half of their network out of operation."

"Kha-Beleth?" Sareth repeated. He knew of the dark cosmic force Urgash, but his knowledge of demonology was about limited to just that.

"Kha-Bealeth is the Demon Sovereign." She told him, placing her hands against the most serious purple bruise near the base of his spine. "The chief deity in that dark pantheon. The son of Urgash and the fiery enemy of all peoples."

The notion that he had spent his childhood in the home of someone who worshipped something like that reinforced the dying resolve Sareth had once had about leaving to venture out into the wide world.

Now he did not seem to know of a location far enough away from that manor for his liking.

"My uncle will be able to tell you more though." Leanna said. "He spent some time in the Empire, before the war, studying the ways of chaos."

"Did he make it out of the manor?" Sareth asked, now concerned. He owed Menelag something for helping him escape with his life.

"He did." Leanna replied with a nod. "I was able to contact him telepathically. He made it out and he'll join us here. I have to keep magical contact like that limited as there are those with the skill to listen in."

There was a note of worry in her tone.

"There." She added, trying to sound a little more cheerful as she took away her hands. Sareth flexed a little. He felt stiff but the pain was gone.

"I guess a few scrapes are nothing compared to what could have happened." He commented.

The image of the slit throats of those servants Phenrig had casually sacrificed flashed across his mind for an instant.

"I think I need to sleep." He took hold of his shirt and stood back up.

"Good idea." Leanna said. "There's still some of the night left. Try to regain some strength. I'll wake you up if…" She corrected herself. "…when my uncle gets back."

"Of course." Sareth replied. "And…thank you."

Her smile was radiant and despite knowing how melancholy she was, Sareth could see a tiny bit of jealously from Xana.


	5. Part 1, chapter 4

Chapter 4

Not used to sleeping on the ground, the best Sareth could find for comfort was the moss and dead leaves. It was cold and damp but I was soft enough and he was tired.

He dozed.

True sleep wasn't possible and a slight nap was the best he was going to manage under the circumstances.

That way, he postponed the inevitable nightmares that he knew come.

The darkness of his night drew on and on and the sky remained black, even up to the cusp of dawn.

Then as if reluctant to relinquish the darkness, the sky tried to fight the approach of the sun but eventually the sun won out.

The orange light filtered up through the black as the dawn came. Sareth was awake before it came and watched the light pass through the canopy of trees above. The noise of the creatures of the forest who came alive at night ended and the chorus of those of the day began.

"He should have been back by now." He heard Leanna mutter. Glancing over, he saw that she was sitting beside the fire with Wyngaal and another of his elves.

"Your concern is felt by us all, m'lady." Wyngaal agreed. "But let us not panic. 'Tis entirely possible that he found some place to hide during the night and will come to us now the light of the sun marks the way."

"I know." The girl said. "But what if they caught up with him? What if…"

"In my experience, when trying to get something done it is not healthy to continually contemplate the idea of 'what if'." The second elf cut in. "We can only trust in Lord Menelag's skill and wait."

Wyngaal looked around, noticing that Sareth was rising.

"Ah, good day." He greeted him. "How do you feel this morn?"

"Better." Sareth replied quite truthfully. The doze had helped him regain his strength and surprisingly he also felt less fragile.

There was a spit turning over the fire where the remains of a dear were slowly cooking.

The notion of eating meat for breakfast was, for a moment, repulsive. Then his stomach reminded him of how hungry he was and then suddenly the roast venison did not seem quite so barbaric.

Having not touched the banquet the cultists had helped themselves to last night he was ravenous.

"Did you see anyone out in the forests?" He asked as Wyngaal cut him a few slices of the meat with his dagger.

"The cultists were out in force." Wyngaal replied with a frown. "We saw them only from far off yet from the number of them, I should imagine that they roused a good hundred o their number to scour the countryside in search of us." His frown became grave. "I confess I had not expected them to be quite so vehement about loosing you."

"I saw a few goblins to the north but that is all that block our path there, for the moment." The second elf added. Goblins were no threat. "I think it might be wise to move before too long."

"We can't leave… my uncle…" Leanna stated, sounding distressed.

"I am not suggesting abandoning lord Menelag, my lady." The Elf added quite quickly. "But I'm saying that in the unlikely event…"

"Er, I think that will do Holillaa." Wyngaal told him with a glare. The elf bowed his head.

"Of course, forgive me my lady." The elf apologised.

"No it's alright." Leanna said off handily. "I suppose we're all a little worried about this and that."

The sun had risen above the horizon when Menelag finally returned. The lookouts reported him coming and Leanna ran out to meet him. The wizard was moving as quietly as he could through the forest, being careful not to leave any tracks for anyone to follow.

"I'm sorry, it took me longer than expected to get back." He apologised when his niece brought him back to the camp. "They were vindictive and it was only through a series of translocations that I was able to escape."

His tone of voice suggested someone who had merely been for light exercise yet Sareth could sense that Menelag was far more taxed then he was allowing them to see.

He was sweating hard and his moved seemed laboured.

Sareth was not the only one to notice this. Leanna looked up into the face of her uncle and then her eyes became afraid.

"Lord Menelag." Wyngaal began slowly. "What are you hiding with your arm?" All eyes were suddenly on the side of the wizard that he was holding an arm tightly across.

Panicking, Leanna moved her uncle's arm aside and gasped when she saw that his robes were stained dark black and red by blood.

"Elrath's mercy!" She whispered, pulling back the clothes. Sareth winced at the side of the jagged wound that had been carved there. It was a serious injury and it went deep, cutting through muscle as well as flesh.

Unable to keep up the pretence of health, Menelag's strength gave way and he collapsed to the ground. Sareth caught the wizard before he was struck the ground and with Leanna's help they moved him into a comfortable position by the fire.

"Can you heal him, my lady?" Wyngaal asked, looking very concerned.

There were tears in Leanna's eyes.

"Some of it, but not all. It's been left too long." Her tone suggested that it went a bit further than that.

"Do... not concern yourself with me." Menelag told her. "The cultists search for you and sooner or …or later they'll come across this grotto. You must move while you have the light to guide you. Leave me if you must."

"As courage as you are to suggest such a thing, My lord, 'tis not necessary." Wyngaal assured him and made more silent hand gestures towards the elves. Holillaa eventually returned with some tree branches and a collection of leaves. While he helped Leanna to hold her uncle in a comfortable position while she tried her best to heal him, Sareth watches the elves weave a stretcher with ease from the materials they had gathered.

"How far behind you where they?" Wyngaal asked once they were finished.

"A few hours. I erased the tracks but they have dogs with them." Menelag replied. Leanna's spells had stopped the bleeding yet the wound remained. With the blood gone, Sareth would see the tear had been done by a dagger.

"Phenrig did this didn't he?" He asked.

"That doesn't matter." Menelag stated as he was transferred onto the stretcher. He winced a little as the elves carried him up. "The night as reigned in but the cultists have not. They will track you until the ends of Ashan if need be."

"But why?" Sareth demanded. "Why do they want me?"

"That's not important." That insistence irritated Sareth to the point where he was perfectly capable of striking an injured man. "You must escape. If it looks like we might be captured, you must flee, leave me behind and run."

"No uncle. Stonehelm still needs you!" Leanna insisted with an angry overtone. "I gave my cousin my word that he wouldn't have to rule in your place forever and I don't intend to disappoint him."

They broke camp hastily and rode out of the grotto, heading north deeper into the forest. It was slow going carrying the injured wizard and making sure their tracks were concealed. The elves made sure to confuse any tracking hounds by spraying every second tree they past with a yellow liquid in a bottle.

"What's in that?" Sareth asked looking at the glass container in Wyngaal's grasp as the elf put the cork back on.

"Hydra piss." He replied bluntly. "The best deterrent for animals following a scent is a whiff of their vile excretions."

"Hydra?" Sareth repeated.

"Multi-headed reptilian beasts." Wyngaal explained. "They live in the caverns in the deepest places in the world. The Dark Elves occasionally harness them for war."

"How big do they get?"

"Hmm… I'd say with all its necks outstretched that an adult Hydra could reach a god twenty feet."

"And how did you get that from them then?" Sareth asked again, raising an eyebrow and casting another glance at the bottle. "Or do I really want to know?"

"Nothing like that." Wyngaal assured him rather quickly. "I acquired a few bottles of it through the black markets. Officially the Dark Elves and the faithful of Sylanna don't trade between each other, yet occasionally Merchants on both sides meet in secluded places to exchange goods." His voice had dipped low so the other Elves couldn't hear him.

"I take it these meetings are frowned upon." Sareth asked with a level stare.

"Well, I suppose you really have to understand the animosity between our peoples. Its goes back quite a way to the burning of our sacred mother tree, Brythigga."

He proceeded to give Sareth a short history lesson. He recanted the history of the elves, or at least their established history. He spoke of how the Elfin noble woman, Tuidhana, spilt from Irollan and declared independence from the Elfin kingdom.

Her followers, according to him, became Dark Elves by turning from the Elves Dragon Sylanna to follow the Dragon of Darkness Malassa.

Then, when the Sylvan's capital city of Syris Thalla had been consumed by fire and the mother tree known to the Elves as Brythigga had been burned to ashes the Dark Elves had been blamed for the atrocious act.

Tuidhana had been executed in punishment and her people banished to the underground caverns and tunnels, for forever dwell away from the sun.

It was only grudgingly that Wyngaal admitted that some time after this, it had been discovered that the fire had in fact been started by a spy for the demon cults.

"I think I can see where this is going." Sareth admitted. Wyngaal nodded once grimly.

"Most of that is all water under the bridge, now, anyway." The elf continued. "Yet the hurt pride still exists on both sides. So can see why meetings like that aren't exactly encouraged."

They continued down a hill with the forest still blanketing them on both sides, casting an eerie green light through the canopy during the noon.

"You know." Sareth began. "I've just realized that it's my birthday!"

Given the circumstances it was not surprising that this little detail had slipped his mind.

Wyngaal slapped him heartily on the back with a short laugh.

"Ah many happy returns of the day to you, young sir." He chuckled. "Not the best way to spend ones day of birth I suspect, hmm?"

"I can think of a few places I'd rather be." Sareth admitted.

"Happy Birthday." Xana's voice echoed, speaking to him privately through that link they shared and then she quickly retreated as if she feared to stay any longer.

"Xana, listen, I think we need to talk." Sareth told her with a silent thought.

The spirit did not reply.

"Please, Xana." Sareth insisted.

"Alright." She eventually came back.

"Phenrig didn't really assign you to be my guardian, did he?"

He could feel Xana's despair as keenly as if he could see it on her face.

"Yes and no." She admitted. "I am your bodyguard that much is true, but I had another duty… a duty the neglecting of which would have earned punishment."

"To help them during the ritual, whatever they intended to do, you had to help."

There was a long, guilty pause.

"Yes." The emotion behind her reply was a mixture of guilt and shame.

"Just what were they trying to do to me?"

"Make you into a monster." Her reply was an evasion of sorts as Sareth was certain there was more to it than that, that much he had felt during the ritual itself yet there was enough truth in that to ensure his desire for further information about the specifics, at this time, was diluted.

"Yet you defied them." He wondered. "Twice. Once by agreeing to help me leave and then again directly, during the ritual."

"None of my kind have ever defied orders before." Xana actually sounded confused, as if she could hardly believe it herself. "Not directly… never."

"Then you are the first."

"I shouldn't be. Its… it's not natural for my kind to do this."

Sareth took in a deep breath and drummed his fingers across the width of his silver amulet. Apparently he was not the only one confused. Xana, like himself, needn't time to thick and evaluate both decisions and the consequences of those decisions.

"Well, I'm glad you did it all the same." He told her and then she was gone.

"Illuminate me, young man, how many summers have past for you thus far?" Wyngaal, who had not heard that private conversation, asked as he slowed the horse he was leading into a trot beside Sareth.

"Eighteen." He replied absent, now passing the number off as completely unimportant.

Wyngaal did not share the sentiment however. His expression was needlessly emotional as if the news were something of a blow to a fundamental truth to him.

"This must not be!" He stated firmly. "No boy should spell the dawn of his manhood this way, travelling with strangers through unfamiliar places without at least something to mark the occasions!" The elf passed the reins of his horse to Sareth and then with free hands, began to rummage around the back pack underneath his leave strewn travellers cape.

After a moment he withdrew what appeared to be a piece of folded wood. With a wide grin he handed it over.

The item in Sareth's hand was folded, almost like paper but with thin black wire interwoven like a spider's web within its structure. Parts of it were engraved but it overlapped so it was impossible to see the whole design.

"What is it?" He asked, looking up at the grinning elf.

"Hold it out in front of you and put your fingers into those three ridges." He replied, mimicking the actions as he spoke.

It took Sareth only a moment to find the ridges he was referring to and copied the action.

Like the wounded spring, the strange item responded and Sareth nearly dropped it in surprise as it unfolded with a loud click.

Transforming before his eyes it became a bow, the string unravelling and coming taught as the wooden pieces snapped into place.

"It's called a Springer Bow." Wyngaal explained smugly. "Once you done using it, you can fold it up and carry it in your pocket if need be."

Sareth admired the bow in his hand. Now he could fully see the pattern carved along each side and marvelled at the near perfect depictions of interweaving vine and oak leaves.

The bow was longer than his forearm yet it felt light for its size. The string looked as if it might be woven from hair yet it shone almost like metal. Running his hand along it, he realised that it had been made seamless by tree sap.

"I'm not sure if I can accept this." Sareth started. "I mean its just so… so beautiful."

"I won't hear of it, its my gift to you." The elf replied with a smile. "When I came into adulthood I myself was presented with a bow such as this. Heretofore, all I had been allowed to focus my skills on had been the tools of apprentices. This is the weapon of men."

Sareth admired the bow again. The wooden folded pieces were held rigid by a series of brass, or what appeared to be brass, hooks that snapped shut to hold it there when it unfolded. Even these were engraved, each one made to look like a leaf or an acorn.

He ran his finger along the string, feeling its perfect edge.

"But... I'm a novice at Archery." He added, looking up. The elf chuckled.

"We've still a long way to go yet." He turned his head and called to the other elves. "Holillaa, bring me that spare quiver!"

In retrospect Sareth supposed that this birthday had not been so bad after all. For the remainder of that whole day, Wyngaal showed him the fine points of Elfin Archery and precisely how deadly a weapon a bow could be in the right hands. Targets were easy to choose and plentiful in the woods, an occasional squirrel, a bird in flight and even fruit on the tops of tall trees.

Wyngaal let loose an arrow, sending it flying off between the trees were it disappeared. A moment later they were a loud whelping sound like sounded almost like high pitched voice.

"Got him." Wyngaal commented with a dry note of satisfaction as the sound grew fainter as whatever he had targeted fled deeper into the undergrowth.

"You got what?" Sareth asked.

"A goblin." The elf leaned his bow across one shoulder and grinned. "Hit him right in the left calf. He'll be limping for days, if he gets the arrow out at all."

Sareth looked around in wonder.

"How did you see him through all this brush?" He asked, gesturing around at the bushes, trees and long grass.

"The eyes of Elves are better than those of men." Wyngaal replied, trying not to brag. "Sylanna's blessing gives us the sight of the sharpest eyed bird of prey."

"Is that what the elves believe, that Dragon's give their peoples their racial traits?"

"It's true! Who else but the patron of the earth could grant us such symbiotic power with nature? Or who else but the Dragon of Fire could give the Dwarves their fiery spirits?"

As the sun began to set Sareth had picked up the basics of the bow. He knew how to raise and hold the bow and the angles at which it had to be positioned for a target to be hit. There was still much for him to learn about the subject but by the time his curiosity on the subject had been peeked they were stopping to make camp for the night.

Letting down the Springer Bow was as easy at setting it up. The three grooves at the front had to be pressed together. As quickly as it had sprung up, it folded back with the wire recoiling itself around the folding wood.

"It's a great present." He said with a smile. "Thank you."

"I am but a Ranger doing what he thinks proper." Wyngaal said as his elves set up tonight's camp, sheltered by moss covered rocks. "Although, I suppose there is one more gift for you while the hours of the day are still here."

Sareth laughed and held up a free hand.

"Oh no, you've done enough for me already with the bow and the archery lesson."

"This is one I must offer, I fear." The elf insisted and then offered him his open hand. "You begin out into the world this day and what happens to you across Ashan may be great or humble. Either way, I offer you the hand of friendship."

There was more being offered in that simple handshake that Wyngaal could not have imagined.

Sareth instantly saw beyond it wand the implications left him quite. This was the beginning of something, of a long journey for him. It would be a journey that would cover leagues in both distance and spirit. It was the beginning of his life and what he deemed it to be.

Making friends with this Elfin Ranger was but the first step.

Smiling, he reached forth and grasped the hand of both his new friend and his new fate.

This was the furthest away from the manor Sareth had ever been before. Phenrig had never allowed him to venture far, for now obvious reasons.

As such he was lot a good judge of distances so he wasn't sure how far they had travelled. He was to guess, he would place them somewhere near the border of Irollan, probably no more than a day from those unending forests.

Was that where they were going? It would be interesting to see Irollan, after all his books had once told him of the Elves and their culture.

"Unfortunately no." Leanna said sadly when Sareth asked her. "We've no permission from King Alaron to enter Irollan. We do however have provisions and sanctuary arranged with Clan Lord Raelag of the ShadowBrand."

"That's a Dark Elven Clan isn't it?" He asked in surprise.

Leanna nodded. "Our destination is Ygg chal?"

That left him feeling a bit unsure of this whole thing. While he knew that it was not fair to paint all of the Dark Elves with the same brush, his unpleasant experience with the brutal Thralsai had left him with a very bad impression of their kind.

"You will be safe there, Sareth, I assure you." Menelag stated. Once ever few miles, Leanna would try to heal more of her uncle's wounds. She was just beginning to make progress but the elderly wizard was still quite week. Wyngaal had prepared a poultice for him and had laid it across the wound to prevent the spread of infection.

"Lord Raelag is a friend of the ruling family of StoneHelm." Leanna added. "He can be trusted to keep you out of harms way."

"You've met him?"

"Oh yes. On many occasions." The girl sounded a little smug. "He's quite the experienced warlock and knows almost all there is to know about elemental magic."

Sareth thought about that. He too was a student of elemental magic and perhaps, if luck would allow, he could learn something from this Raelag.

That thought cheered him up considerably. His original intention of travelling to learn different magic's might not have to be abandoned after all.

Holillaa, who was taking the lead in the scouting party, return to them out of the brush ahead and gestured rapidly to Wyngaal. Sareth did not understand the signals yet their fast motions indicated danger to him.

"What's wrong?" Wyngaal asked when they got here.

"The cultists must have gotten ahead of us." Holillaa replied in a wheeze. "They have troops waiting in the valley below."

Wyngaal's face went flinty.

"How many?"

"About twenty, maybe more. It's an ambush, I'm certain. Archers and men in armour, they look Imperial."

The other elves readied their bows and one of two drew their swords with a soft metallic hiss of blade against scabbard.

"Did they see you?" Wyngaal asked again. Holillaa shook his head.

"I don't think so, but should we take that chance?"

"Probably not. We're outnumbered." He thought for a second. "We're going to have to get around them without them noticing. Do they have any dogs?"

"No."

"Good. That gives us some leeway for stealth." Wyngaal paused and glanced back at the injured Menelag.

"I've told you to leave me behind if something like this happens." The wizard stated irritably, still clutching at his side.

"And I've told you we won't do that." His niece replied stubbornly.

"Is there a way around the valley?" Sareth asked. "Some concealed path perhaps, a way through the brush?"

"There's a collapsed cliff side with hidden ridge we might be able to get through, but it's a big valley and such a detour will take us the rest of the days light." Holillaa warned.

"Well it's a lot better an alternative than fighting when out numbered when it's a fifty/fifty chance we might have the element of surprise." Wyngaal pointed out. "Good thinking Sareth. Alright, we go around but we keep our eyes open, not telling where they might have other ambushes set up."

The valley they had to go around was almost like a canyon. Sareth suspected the origin of the fault line that created it would probably lie amongst the ragged mountains of GrimHeim to the far north. It's slopped were covered in tall trees yet these gave away to a carpet of tall grass. From the vantage point of the top of the valley, it was just possible to see the sunlight glint off the surface of men in armour.

The eyes of Elves were better than those of humans and Wyngaal assured Sareth that when he looked, he could see crossbowmen hiding there as well.

"Armoured Vindicators, probably Lorenzo's men." The elf said and then he swore. "I got careless. The dog's couldn't follow us because of the Hydra Urine but their masters just followed the trail! They must have guessed where we were going and then circled around."

"It's too late to do anything about it now." Leanna commented. "Come on, let's find that ridge."

The ridge wasn't hard to find. Part of the side of the valley had collapsed, possibly due to an earthquake in recent history. Passing through the rubble was a path, just wide enough for them to walk through. Jagged rocks like teeth stood up near and there, casting long shadows that would shield them from sight from the men down on the valley floor

"One of us should scout on ahead to see if it's safe." Holillaa muttered, keeping his voice down. None of them wanted their voices to carry on the wind. Wyngaal shook his head.

"No time. If we dally about up here, sooner or later they're going to realise where we are and then things turn nasty." He frowned. "I don't like taking this risk but it's a lot better than staying. We go together."

There was a short drop down into the hidden crevice and Sareth had to assist Leanna in awkwardly lowering her uncle's stretcher down.

"Thanks Sareth." She told him with a sweet smile.

"I'm not sure I entirely like how much that girl is depending on you." Xana remarked waspishly and with a jealous overtone.

"Oh feeling better are you?" Sareth asked a little slyly in return and sensed the wind being taken out of her figurative sails. "I hope you're not about to accuse me of being too trusting."

"Well… I…." She floundered. "Well I don't like her. That's all." Then she went silent as if sulking.

The passage through the rocky path twisted back and forth in quite a few different directions. Had the path been straight, they might have made it to the other side before dark.

Having to manoeuvre through the rocks however, meant that the sun was dipping low in the sky before they even saw the other side through the gaps in the rocks.

"Are they doing anything?" Wyngaal asked Holilla, who was keeping an eye on the cultist's intended ambush in the valley.

"They're growing restless." The elf replied. "I think they know by now that their plan's gone wrong." He looked up. "I think we ought to pick up the pace a little, it won't take them long to find our trail once they come up here."

That was something they all agreed was a good idea. Quickening their step, they went as quickly as they could while trying to keep as silent as possible.

Sareth accidentally knocked a rock with his foot. It rolled off the edge of a boulder and then struck some more rocks on the way down, the loud clatter of stone against stone echoing through the valley.

One of the men in ambush stood up out of the long grass and looked around. Sareth could see the armour they wore now. It was plate mail with gold trim around the edge of each plate. The helm had a pair of intimidating curved ivory horns on either side and the tunic across the armour itself was blood red. He carried in one hand a long sword in one hand and a shield attached by straps to the other.

"Did he see us?" Leanna asked in a hushed as they all froze on the path, none of them so much as moving an inch as the armoured man glared around in the general direction of the landslide.

There was a sudden loud clicking sound.

"Oh we saw you alright." A voice stated. Glancing up sharply, the group found that atop the rocks were perched at least six Crossbowmen, their loaded with bolts and held at the ready. Their faces were mostly hidden behind visors underneath a metal helm and like the armoured men down in the valley they all wore red tunics across their armour.

Unlike the armoured men in the valley whose attire was designed for melee combat, their armour was light and made from a mixture of chain mail and a breastplate. It provided sufficient protection and was light enough for them to move about with more agility.

"Drop your weapons!" Their apparent leader declared, gesturing forward with his crossbow. Caught by surprise and without any room to manoeuvre in this narrow pass, the elves had no choice but to drop their bows on the ground one by one.


	6. Part 1, chapter 5

Chapter 5

The Springer Bow was still in Sareth's pocket folded up. He made no move to remove it although a rational part of his mind told him quite sternly that trying something rash under the watch of so many armed men was a life threatening mistake.

Suddenly, a man stepped out from behind a set of rocks and he froze.

It was Douglas, Phenrig's hired bodyguard. He was glad in armour, similar to the crossbowmen only his tunic was green and reached down to his knees.

"You travelled further than we expected." He admitted, striding forward with sword in hand. "But this transgression of yours will not go unpunished, Menelag!" His tone was venomous and there was nothing the injured wizard could do to stop him approaching.

Leanna threw herself between her uncle and Douglas, spreading her arms out wide to block his path.

"Fortunately, its not you I'm after right now." The man sneered and then he turned to glare directly at Sareth.

"Idiot boy!" He added with a snap, his arm lashing out to slap the lad hard across the face. "I didn't spend a decade teaching you how to fight to have all our efforts wasted by your rash adolescent yearnings."

Sareth glared back, feeling the painful mark on his cheek yet his eyes held no tears only a fierce defiance.

"I don't care what you think." He hissed. "You're a murderer!"

"And you are a spoiled brat!" Douglas retorted and grabbed the front of Sareth's shirt. "I'm taking you back to Phenrig, we're going to complete the ritual and then you're going to fulfil the role you were raised for!" He took hold of the boys shoulder and shoved him forward. "And you're going to cooperate."

"Sareth…" Xana's voice warned him and glancing around, he was reminded of the many crossbows pointed at both at him and the friends he had only so recently earned.

He had no choice but to comply as he and they were forced out into the open. Menelag was pushed from his stretcher and told to move, despite his injury.

"He can't walk, he's hurt!" Leanna told them only to have them push her aside as they roughly kicked the old wizard forward while he was not able to defend himself.

When we were out in the open, Douglas signalled to the men down in the valley that their second ambush had been successful.

The sun had sunk below the horizon by the time the armoured men made it up the side of the valley to join them and now Sareth could see the Vindicator warriors in far greater detail.

Their long swords had jagged bards running down each side of their blades and even the hilt and pommel of their weapons looked designed to inflict pain with razor edges. Their shields were just the same, lined with spikes for painful impaling.

"Put the lad in chains." Douglas remarked to them when their leader arrived. "As for the others, do whatever you want with…"

He never finished the sentence.

A loud shriek erupted out of the darkness of the night that was settling over the land.

It was an inhuman wail, penetrating down into the soul with its cry of despair and anguish.

The Vindicators glared around, holding their swords at the ready and their Crossbowmen wielded their own weapons.

Leanna screamed and Sareth looked around as… something… came forth from the darkness.

It was moving so fast that it was only a blur but he was able to pick up the brief outline of a form vaguely humanoid before it leapt forth and grabbed one of the Vindicators with a massive clawed hand that looked as if it were made of pure darkness.

The man screamed in the things grip, first out of panic and then out of horror as the thing sank its other hand down into his chest. It past through armour and flesh like unsubstantial shadow and then…

Sareth went white. He could see it, he could actually see as the darkness tore the man's soul out, a bright blue light… brought to an invisible mouth and swallowed whole.

"Sylanna have mercy, a Wight!" Holillaa gasped, holding a hand to his mouth as the thing reared up. Its head and face were hidden by a cowl made from darkness and that was where the soul of its victim had disappeared. The body lay on the ground amongst the grass, lifeless.

"Kill it, kill it!" Douglas cried out and his crossbowmen loosed a dozen or so bolts directly at the thing. Its insubstantial form could not be struck and the projectiles flew right through its body and screeching, it loomed up and spread its arms out.

"You can't kill it!" Menelag hissed. "It's already dead!"

It was then that the screaming began.

The Wight, this ghost of darkness, set upon their captors and the screams were terrible.

"Run!" Wyngaal hissed at their group. "Run now!"

With no one to stop them, the elf's and those in their company fled for the trees as the screams continued echoing into the cold wind.

The Wight's feasted on the souls of five men before the moral of the armoured cultists broke and they ran themselves. Sareth looked back through the trees, seeing that Douglas and a few Vindicators were following them.

Right behind them, the Wight came forth, sliding through the trees back and forth like the wind itself. It continued to screech, not now in agony but in hunger instead.

Douglas suddenly tripped, falling to the ground. His vindicators ran past him, ignoring him as they fled for their own lives.

He struggled to get up off the forest floor but the Wight was on him before he could so much as get a food under him.

His eyes stared pleadingly up towards Sareth.

"Please… please help me!!" He cried out in a wail and for one instant, despite everything, Sareth wanted to go back.

Then those arms made from shadow reached down and grasped his soul.

Sareth tore his gaze away and continued running as the scream disturbed the forest birds.

They must have all run for half an hour without stopping when fatigue finally forced them to gather behind a thicket of trees, out of breath and sweating hard.

Menelag was first to collapse. The necessary running had exhausted him and reopened the wound that Leanna had had to stitch during their journey.

For a moment there was silence, broken only by their loud breathing and the distant hooting of an owl.

"I don't see it." Holillaa remarked, looking out from behind his tree the way they had just come. Wyngaal checked himself, his sharp eyes studying the shadow between the tall trees where they might be some spectre lurking in ambush.

"Neither so I." He admitted after a moment. "Maybe it's still feeding on…" He broke off and shuddered.

The act of tearing out a soul and swallowing it filled Sareth with revulsion so absolute it shook his very fundamental belief about right and wrong.

And those screams! The sound of death he might be able to handle but that scream of absolute horror that came from that would haunt him perhaps until the end of days.

"We… we can not stay here." Menelag wheezed. "We must move on…aggh!" He clutched at his side again.

"I think it might be wiser to wait for dawn." Wyngaal ventured his opinion.

"No, you don't understand." The wizard insisted as his niece helped him to sit up. "Wight's… they aren't native to this land. Their dark kind resides only in the vaults of Heresh. They can only be here if they are summoned by a Necromancer."

Phenrig's manor had not been so removed from the mainstream of society for Sareth not to have heard the stories.

During the last war, a Necromancer named Markal had gained the confidence of Queen Isabel and used that to gain power within the empire and launch his own wars of conquest against the Silver Cities and Irollan.

He had been killed during the crescendo of the fighting but it had taken years to rid the empire of all the undead that he summoned during his stay.

"And I do not think that this creature is acting alone." Menelag continued managing to get back to his feet. "Necromancer's always back Wight's up with lesser spirits. Weaker but deadly in large numbers."

He tried to walk forward but he was still too weak. His injury bled once more and he was instantly back on his knees.

Leanna tried to help him back up but he brushed off her attempt.

"For Elrath's sake girl, I'm slowing you down!" He snapped. "This is precisely the kind of situation I warned you about, now you MUST leave me!"

"No." The reply came not from her but from Sareth. "We won't." He was instantly by their side, helping Leanna get her uncle back to his shaky feet. "I owe both of you my life and I intend to repay that favour."

Leanna looked at him, her eyes filled with intense gratitude.

"Thank you." She sniffed with a wavering voice, genuinely touched by his compassion.

"Must you do that?" Xana asked irritably. Sareth chose not to reply.

Wyngaal took point while the rest of his Elves covered the side and rear, each of them watching intently for the Wight or anything else that might crawl out of the darkness.

They saw no more men in the woods, not even those Vindicators who had fled from the Wight. It was eerily silent and the call of birds of the night did little to banish the fear that held them all.

Without even thinking about it, Sareth reached into his pocket and took out his Spring Bow. He let it unfold to its true form and held it at the ready, like those around him. He could not draw arrows as quickly as an elf but he needed reassurance of being ready anyway.

"Don't worry, I'll be able to tell if anything's coming." Xana assured him.

"Like the Wight I suppose?" He asked in reply. "Or Douglas' ambush?"

"I can only detect supernatural creatures, not the mortal races." She sounded annoyed, more that Sareth's snippiness than her own inability yet a small amount of self loathing was definitely there. "As for the Wight, it snuck up on me. I wasn't expecting it. It won't do that again."

"How far to the Labyrinth's entrance?" Leanna asked Wyngaal, leaning forward to see past him to the trail ahead.

"Another two days." He replied sounding sour. "If we made regular time that is. If we have to keep watching our backs for undead and evil spirits then it'll probably take considerably longer."

"At least they'll keep the cultists off our backs." Holillaa's attempt at lightening the mood was poor.

"Personally I think I'd prefer to take my chances with the cultists." Wyngaal said.

They continued on for some distance but then they had to stop. It was late, they were all tired and they had to set up camp for the night.

Eventually they came across a clearing in the trees where caps in the dark canopy allowed a shaft of moonlight to cascade down and illuminate the ground.

"No fire." Wyngaal advised. "I don't want to attract attention."

Tents were erected and they went to sleep cold. The elves took watch and knowing they were there was the only thing giving Sareth confidence enough to rest.

Despite how tired he was he would not sleep. He forced himself to remain awake. He knew that if he fell asleep those screams would echo through his mind all to the dawn and add themselves to the deepening horror of the ritual he had only just escaped.

He honestly feared that if he did not have some safe haven where he might find some degree of normalcy that his mind would become unhinged.

It was nearing midnight and still he hadn't managed a moment of sleep.

"Sareth…" He opened his eyes and leaning before him was Leanna. "Ah you're awake."

"Couldn't sleep." He replied truthfully. "I'm surprised you're uncle can." The girl shrugged.

"He needed rest so I have him one of the elve's sedatives. It'll numb the pain and it makes him drowsy so he'll be fine."

Sareth sighed and leaned back against the rock he was trying to get comfortable against.

"Sareth…" She began again and she relaxed beside him. "I wanted to thank you."

"I thought you already did."

"Not just for that, for everything." She continued. "You don't know us, we only met a few days ago and yet you've stayed loyal." Her eyes rolled up to the gap in the trees above. The stars were out and their presence was reassuring. "You could have run off and left us, gone off your own way."

"I suppose." Sareth mused. He could have, that was certain but if he was honest this was the first time that the idea even came into his head. "I supposed I stayed because I have nowhere else to go."

Surprisingly, Leanna shook her head.

"No." She disagreed. "That doesn't explain everything. You helped us because we needed help, not because we hadn't any choice. That was compassion that drove you even when you wee being chased by…" She didn't finish the sentence and Sareth was glad she didn't.

"If you say so." He breathed. "I've never thought of myself as particularly compassionate though."

"You might surprise yourself with what you might be capable of." Her tone was empathic. "You're a good person you know. What do you say… friends?"

"I thought we already where?"

"Sareth!" Xana's voice suddenly yelled into his mind. "They're coming." Almost forgetting Leanna was there, he stumbled to his feet with his bow in hand, glaring around at the darkness surrounding their camp.

"Where?" He asked out load.

"All around!" Xana sounded a little frantic. "Ghouls!"

"Ghouls?"

"The living dogs of the Necromancers!"

Wyngaal looked back with a confused look on his face.

"Sareth, what's the matter?" He asked.

"Ghouls!" He repeated and the elves started, looking around in alarm holding their bows up.

"What? Where?" One of them asked, glancing around. "I can't see…" Then they didn't say anything.

A sound, soft and low at first, began to pulse from somewhere out in amongst the trees.

It a scuttling noise, like dozens of high pitched voice muttering and chuckling all together. It was by no means as horrible as the hungry scream of the Wight but it was enough to fray at their already tested nerves.

"There!" Xana stated and some mental probing directed Sareth's attention directly up. Glancing at the trees, he gapped at the sight of dozens of small creatures amongst the branches.

They were small, probably no taller than a child but with long limbs that enabled them to climb from branch to branch like a spider. Their skin was pure white, indicating a creature that had never so much as looked at the sun. Their eyes glowing yellow, they were descending down towards their camp like crawling insects.

"Above!" Sareth cried out, taking hold of an arrow from the quiver on his back and loosing it at one of the Ghouls.

The arrow struck the creature in the head and it fell down to the ground, convulsing before it died. In the light its true hideous features could be observed. Its head was oval shaped and its mouth seemed to be permanently fixed open as if it had screamed and then never stopped. Its teeth were jagged and yellow and there was no tongue behind them.

The Elves responded immediately, loosing their own arrows up as the swarm and more bodies fell dead to the ground yet the numbers of the Ghouls did not seem to diminish.

Leanna instantly rushed to her uncle's side and tried to wake him up and as she did so, one of the creatures leapt from the branches directly at her. Its arms outstretched, black claws on the end of each finger it screeched loudly as it flew directly at her.

Before its lunge could connect, Menelag sat directly up and with a simple gesture of one hand he loosed a spell directly at the Ghoul.

A fire ball rocketed forth and the impact connected with the creature and sent it flying away, trailing black smoke as it went.

Menelag got to his knees, plain anger clear on his face as he gazed up at the ghouls around them.

"Sareth, come here, I need your help!" He called and Sareth obeyed even without thinking.

"Do something, there's too many of them!" Wyngaal cried out, loosing another three arrows at once. By now, bodies of the Ghouls were dropping like flies to the ground yet more seemed to be scurrying out of the darkness.

Several leapt out, using their superior numbers to overwhelm one of the elves and as they dragged him down they began to eat him. He screamed as their razor teeth sank into his flesh and began ripping lumps out to swallow whole.

His fellows came to his aid instantly, firing a barrage of arrows at the Ghouls forcing enough of them off him so that he could kick the rest of them away so he could scurry to safety.

Menelag grasping Sareth's hand when he came near.

"Lightning boy…think lightning!"

It was possible for two mages to combine their mana into one spell yet this was the first time Sareth had ever attempted it. He knew the theory behind it yet the reality of it seemed intimidating and daunting under the circumstances.

Elemental lightning gathered between his fingers and Menelag did the same. Then combining their spells into one orb between them, their bodies seemed to tremble at the sheer force they were attempting to wield.

Sareth was finding it hard not to collapse to his knees underneath the weight of all this mana.

Following Menelag's lead, he threw his palms forward as the spell discharged.

This was no mere bolt of lightning however. When it struck its first target, the spell rebounded and then struck another and then another, bouncing from Ghoul to Ghoul until well over a dozen of them were being electrocuted.

They twitched there up in the trees, smoke rising from their convulsing bodies before they fell to the ground in smouldering heaps.

"Chain lightning." Xana explained to him with a kind of smug pride that seemed completely inappropriate for the situation. "Quick, do it again! They're coming at you from behind!"

"Behind!" Sareth echoed and he and Menelag spun as one, combining their mana again with renewed bolts of elemental energy.

Some of the Ghouls that leapt at them were too close but coming to their defence, Leanna weaved her hands about in the air and constructed a barrier between them and the creatures. It was a hastily made shield and it didn't last beyond a single blow yet the buffer had given the two of them enough time to charge and then fire their spell.

Again the Chain lightning shot forward with an echoing boom and the ghouls in its path staggered, swaying spasmodically before they fried.

Just when it seemed like they might be able to weather this attack, a horrible screech cut through to their very souls.

It was a familiar screech that Sareth had heard before.

"The Wight!!" Wyngaal cried out.

The darkness between the trees seemed to surge up, becoming solid and once more they beheld the terrible figure of the soul devouring shade. The Ghouls all screeched and got out of its way, backing off into the relative safety of the trees as the monstrous shadow glided past them towards its intended victims.

It was still hungry. The souls it had already slurped down were not enough to appease it and now it had come for its second course.

"Ah, no choice." Menelag wheezed and Sareth looked at him. The old man was sweating hard and he looked tired… too tired.

"Together Sareth! One last time!" He added, looking at him in turn. "Wight's are immune to the weapons of mortal man but they can be harmed by magic."

"But the amount of power needed for…"

"It's not important."

"But…"

"Don't argue just…" His face softened. "Just protect my niece for me."

So it was, with tears stinging his eyes that Sareth combined his mana again with Menelag's.

The Wight's huge arms reached forward in their hideous intent to share and snatch at that which is so precious.

The lightning bolt discharged directly at the hideous beast, not Chain lightning this time but rather a concentrate burst of elemental power that struck with an echoing boom.

The Wight shuddered, trembling as the blow had been physical. The energy crackled around it and its dark form flew off in places as if it couldn't hold itself together.

Its hideous screech grew incredibly loud and it backed off, swaying back and forth quickly in the air and holding its hands to its head.

"Begone!" Leanna cried out, loosing a spell of her own. It was an average fireball spell but the Wight was not able to withstand it now and it dissipated, fading away with its screech echoing high into the night.

Its darkness was gone but the Ghouls were not and they gathered, undeterred by the destruction of the shade and fully intent to resume their hunt where they left off.

The Elves had readied their bows, arrows held prepared to loose.

There was a dreadful moment of silence.

Then that silence was broken when suddenly, new shapes began to stampede out of the undergrowth.

There were about six riders, all in tight arrowhead formation. Lances with jagged ends lowered as they charged.

The Ghouls were caught by surprise and unable to move quickly enough they were caught up.

Some were trampled, others were impaled. Few of their number survived to flee, shrieking into the night.

"Dark Elves?" Wyngaal asked, looking up in confusion.

The riders were indeed Dark Elves, glad in black riding armour with blue cowls hiding their faces. Their mounts were not horses but rather lizards; tall creatures about the size of a horse but it stood on two legs and were covered in green scales. Their legs were long and a jagged claw stood out on one of the toes on each foot.

When the Ghouls had been routed, the leader of these Dark Elven riders dropped out of her saddle to face them.

She was quite small, strangely petite for an elf with very long white hair that reached to her calves. She wore black clothing that did little to hide her very well developed figure. Around her neck she wore a collar with a row of white spikes.

"I am Ylaya." She said, introducing herself. Her eyes were a deep violet and her face had an archaic tattoo across its right hand side around the eye, cryptic patterns in laid in purple. "Keeper of the Law of Clan ShadowBrand. My Lord, Clan-chief Raelag sent me to escort you to the Labyrinth."

She smiled and then glanced off towards the direction the remaining Ghouls had fled from.

"It appears I arrived at a convenient moment."

Leanna bowed low to her.

"You're assistance is appreciated, my lady." She began polite and then straightened up. "My uncle will be glad to see you." She half turned. "Uncle, we have…" But the words froze in her mouth.

Sareth was kneeling down behind Menelag.

The old man was lying on the ground and he wasn't moving.

"Uncle?" Leanna began again, her voice almost dying into a hushed whisper as horror began to creep into her eyes.

"Leanna… I'm so sorry." Sareth choked through clenched teeth, tears running freely down his cheeks. "He gave everything he had. Everything to help protect us and he didn't have anything left."

Slowly and with the utmost regret and despair, he reached up and pulled Menelag's eyelids shut to give him the deceptive visage of sleep.


	7. Part 2, chapter 6

Part 2

_**Part 2**_

_(Raelag)_

Chapter 6

The entrance to the Labyrinth, the realm of the Dark Elves, was a large door built into the side of a cliff. It wasn't the only entrance to the underworld. According to Ylaya entrances to the caves and tunnels existed all over Ashan but this was one used for trader caravans.

It was old, very old, made from basalt stone with no mortar holding the stones together. It stood at least twenty feet high with archaic designs decorating the outer edge.

Clan Lord Raelag, the ruler of the Shadowbrand, was there to meet them and when he saw the body they were escorting his welcoming smile disappeared in a flash.

He was average size for an elf with an angular shaped face and long black hair slopping behind him with a bluish sheen. His bright blue eyes were small in the near pure white face and as he walked near the expression he wore was grave yet cold like stone.

Menelag's body was concealed by a cloth, his face hidden from view yet Leanna had not moved from her uncle's side.

Raelag's clothing was impressive. It was near one piece suit with armour across the forearms and shoulders, interlaid with gold. The gold made patterns, intricate, precise and painstakingly moulded. Straps across his chest held on a cloak made of violet material that hung to his knees. His pointed pale ears were pierced and the ear rings he wore were made of a strange stone, angled into a jagged leaf and they glinted in the sunlight.

"This was not supposed to be." He muttered in a rich boyish voice with a shake of his head. "Of all the losses we could take this was one I did not wish to endure." His tone was intensely regretful yet resigned.

"It is to my regret that I confess my intervention was too late to save him." Ylaya said with a short bow to her lord.

"You have nothing to reproach yourself for, my child." He told her softly without looking up. "This is just so…" He stopped and then looked over at Leanna. The girl simply stood there with her head drooped so they could not see her face.

"Take them back to Virbeth; see to all their needs and wants." He told his keeper of the law and she nodded to him and then gestured to her riders, who began to herd their lizards towards the entrance to Ygg Chall

Wyngaal sighed.

"I'm afraid this is where we part ways my young companion." He began to Sareth. "For you must go on now without me."

"What are you talking about?" The young man asked. "You aren't coming with us?" That surprised him. He'd been journeying with the elf for much that it seemed, now, to be unnatural to be going separate ways.

"'Tis not my inclination but I have no choice." Wyngaal reclaimed. "There are places which I can not go and you are about to set foot in such a place." He gestured with his bow at the large door leading underground.

"No elf loyal to Sylanna may set foot in the caverns of those under the protection of Malassa, just as no Dark Elves are permitted in Irollan."

"But…" Sareth started.

"It's the law of both nations." Wyngaal elaborated. "It keeps peace between our two peoples. They keep to themselves and so do we." He cast a glance at Raelag, who was ignoring him. "We must go. They've been tolerant and polite ready by permitting us to the very border of their land."

"That's hardly fair."

"Possibly not but it keeps the peace and I'll not disrupt the harmony." He smiled. "No my young friend, I'm afraid that for now, this is goodbye."

He offered a hand forward and Sareth looked at it as if it were the end of a piece of his life that hadn't been soaked in blood.

Wyngaal had been the first one to truly offer him friendship and now he had to leave.

Unable to refuse the gesture, Sareth shook his hand.

"Might I prevail unto you to look after Lady Leanna." Wyngaal added with a whisper, looking past Sareth towards the young woman as she silently followed her uncle's body as the Dark Elves took it with them. "She will need a strong foundation upon which to rebuild her life and you can supply that. Be a foundation to her, young Sareth."

The young man nodded.

"Believe me I will."

Wyngaal paused to look at him with a more critical eye as if he were evaluating his friend once more. The spreading smile across his face spoke volumes.

"I look forward to the day we meet again." He said. "For I know when we do, I'll be seeing a living legend. There's potential in you enough to shake the heavens."

Sareth knew that the assessment was an exaggeration but it was quite flattering so he said nothing about it.

"Till we meet again, Sareth. Look to the forests and I'll be there."

Then he turned and he and his elves about faced and made their way back through the long grass towards the trees. Sareth watched him go and strangely, the separation did not seem so bad with the way Wyngaal had phrased it.

He kept his eyes on them for at least two minutes before he turned and looked up at the imposing door leading into the labyrinth of Ygg Chall and the Clan Lord Raelag, standing there waiting for him.

Wordlessly they past from the world of light and into the dark calm of the underworld.

Sareth kept glancing back over his shoulder right up until the large doors to the labyrinth closed after them.

Instinctively he expected to be instantly surrounded by perpetual darkness but that was not the case.

The light was definitely dimmer but it was easy to see the interior of the large tunnel. Lighting the way for them were a series of jagged, luminous rocks that emitted a soft blue light.

It took a moment Sareth's eyes adjusted to the dim and he began to see more and more of the new world around him.

"Come." Ylaya told him, looking back. "The tunnels of Ygg Chall are not for those who do not know their way. If you get lost you will wander in the darkness forever."

Gulping loudly, Sareth quickened his step and fell in beside the group.

The entrance widened spilt off in many different directions, each new tunnel with a checkpoint guarded by Dark Elves, who all stood to attention as the mournful procession past through the central tunnel.

The tunnels were not just made up of stone. Roots from the trees above fed down through the earth, some forming walls and others floors and ceilings. Mushrooms and fungus covered these roots and the air around them was almost drenched with a strange perspiration.

Sareth could not help but note these details. He didn't want to given the circumstances but he seemed to be doing it instinctively and there was little he could do to stop.

He cast a glance at the riders who accompanied them.

Their reptilian mounts were perhaps the oddest creatures he'd seen thus far. They were clear predatory animals with sharp teeth and a pair of curved claws one on each foot. The tails were long, possibly to act as a counterbalance.

The Dark Elves riding them carried lances, long poles with a spear point. Tied beneath this point was a ribbon, differing in colour from rider to rider.

Ylaya rode one of these, although hers was slightly larger and had pale red scales rather than green.

Raelag had a reptilian mount of his own, one of the larger breeds with scales that were almost blood red.

Virbeth, seat of power for Clan Shadowbrand, caught Sareth by surprise. He had read much about the Dark elves and their culture under Phenrig's tutelage. But that was mere theory. Seeing an underground city, built into a rock pillar at least a three miles across across, was something else.

The tunnels twisted back and forth until Sareth was certain he would never find his way out on his own and then they came into a huge cavern.

Virbeth was something to behold. It was just as large as any city on the surface but it was built mostly from the cavern ceiling. The building was clinging to stalactites, interlocking with each other almost like a web that arched around in a circle.

The focus of the circle was centred directly in the middle where a massive pillar of rock stood, branching the distance between the high ceiling and the low floor. Built into this pillar was what Sareth understood at least at first glance to be the cities fortress.

It was built like a fortress with battlements and towers, all styled in strange swirling ballast architecture. A large set of stairs led from the cavern floor to the entrance and more stairs lead up from the top, high above to the rest of the city. Virbeth twinkled at them, every house and building marked by faint blue or violet lights.

The fortress' main feature was the state. Sareth couldn't be certain what stone it was made out of from her but it looked like marble.

It depicted a female dark elf; clad in strange chain mail armour holding both hands aloft and in them burned what appeared to be ceremonial fires. It looked like fire but the flames were a strange purple colour and they gave out only light and no smoke.

It didn't take them long to reach the palace gates and Raelag ushered them inside.

"My Lady." He began to Leanna, placing a hand on her shoulder as they moved the body of her uncle inside. "I would like to speak to you at some future time regarding what arrangements have been made for the funeral but I will postpone that discussion until such time as it is appropriate.

In the meantime, I hope I will not overstep my bound by placing your uncle's body in cold storage to preserve him."

Leanna only nodded once and Raelag released his awkward grip.

"Ylaya, show them up to the guest rooms while I make arrangement." He commanded and the female dipped her head.

"It will be as you say my lord."

The rooms arranges for them were quite large and Sareth noted that it was meant for more than two people. It was lusciously decorated with rugs and drapes, but these didn't match with the style of the walls around them. The furniture looked in its place though.

"The lord will speak with you when he has free time." Ylaya told him, showing them in. "Would you like some food brought up in the meantime?"

Sareth was at once reminded of the fact that he hadn't eaten, properly, for two days.

"Yes, although I'm not sure what Dark Elven customs are about eating." He confessed with a look of regret on his face.

"We are not as peculiar about our eating habits as other races." Ylaya assured him. "Our kitchens cook whatever is desired of ourselves and our guests. Shall I have prepared some more usual for human dinner tables?"

Sareth smiled and nodded.

"I'll have it brought up to as soon as it is ready."

The boy cast a quick glance at Leanna. The girl sat on a bed at the far end of the room without looking at either of them.

"There is no cure for grief." Ylaya added in a quieter tone. "But warm food can help."

"Eh, good idea." Sareth agreed quietly. Ylaya left and there was a long silent pause after that.

The boy kept his eyes directly on Leanna, watching her without moving. He didn't know what to do, to say.

"Are you alright?" He asked but even as he said it he knew it was a mistake.

"How can I possibly be alright?" The girl asked waspishly. She had stopped crying now but mainly because her tear ducts needed time to replenish.

"Ok that was a stupid question." Sareth admitted out load.

"I think you ought to be spending less time on the girl and more time wondering what you're going to do." Xana stated to him in his mind. "They got you here to safety. Their job is over. Now we have to think about what our next move is. Let her cry her eye's out here if she insists. We have more important things to do."

"You're a real saint you know that?" Sareth muttered back sarcastically.

"Look, I'm just saying that you put things in perspective." She sounded irritated now as if annoyed by the mere prospect of the man she guarded being anywhere near this potential rival. "This is time better spent on finding solutions for our own problems."

"I owe her his much at least." He replied to her adamantly and in a tone that cut of any possible argument.

He pulled up a chair and sat down beside Leanna. If he was honest he would admit that he hadn't the slightest idea of how to go about doing this. It was in this stark moment of realization that he came to grips with the gaps in his education. Phenrig had taught him magic and Douglas had taught him swordsmanship but neither of them had bothered to educate him in the arts of social integration.

He had grown up learning only what they had wanted him to know, even in spite of his defiant sprit towards them. That victory over him filled him with a sense of chagrin that forced him to take this next step.

"Tell me about your uncle." He began and Leanna looked up at him with confused eyes. "Tell me everything about him, all the things you can remember."

That was how the next half hour was spent. Leanna began to tell him about her uncle and the life she had led while under his tutelage.

"My father died during Queen Isabel's war, lending the forces of StoneHelm to fight against the undead." She began. "He was fighting amongst the rebellion and was killed by Markal's forces when he briefly ran the empire." Her tone clearly displayed what she thought of the infamous Markal.

"After that my uncle took over Stonehelm and had to withdraw support for the war to avoid retaliation. I was only a baby at the time but he looked after me well."

"What about your mother?"

"I haven't the faintest idea who she is." Leanna admitted and Sareth looked a bit confused. "My father must have met my mother before the war began because he returned one night to Stonehelm and handed me over as a baby to my uncle."

The one thing Sareth did have in abundance was a good imagination so a million thoughts and possibilities rushed through his mind at that point but he wisely chose not to voice them.

"I grew up in the court and there were loads of children to play with. I had cousins by the score and friends from nearly every noble house. My uncle was a good ruler and the people loved him."

"Hold on." Sareth cut in suddenly. "If your father was the rightful ruler of Stonehelm then your uncle was merely a regent."

Leanna paused and then nodded.

"I suppose." She agreed.

"Well… wouldn't that make YOU the Duchess or something now?"

There was a moment of silence and the Leanna burst out laughing. It wasn't quite the reaction that Sareth had been expecting but it was a whole lot better than crying.

"Me? Duchess of Stonehelm?" She asked with a smile. "Oh no. I already made it quite clear to the court there that I have no desire to rule. They can choose between my cousins for that."

"But if you're the next in line…"

"No. How could I rule a city state? No my uncle had something different in mind for me, that's why he began teaching me magic at such an early age.

Perhaps if the Silver Cities hadn't been in so much turmoil I might have been sent there to study but I got a home education instead.

I loved those lessons; really I did, out there on the battlements with the sun shining. It was always the best way to practise."

Sareth muttered something ineligible and began to detest Phenrig even more for the closed door, classroom way he had been given magical instruction. Why could he not have been tutored in this way?

He really felt cheated now.

"It was after the war that we began this operation to hunt down the cultists. My uncle must have spent hours in his private study researching dark magic and how to counter it, especially after they caused that eclipse. I'd just past the exams he'd set me and I begged him to let me help.

He was going to leave me behind but eventually I was able to persuade him and the two of us began that investigation." She stopped. "Oh Elrath, how am I going to tell Jonathon?" She reverted back to intense melancholy, burying her face in her hands.

"Jonathon?"

"My cousin who agreed to rule Stonehelm while we were away. I promised him I'd look after his father and I failed." Sudden fear crept into her eyes. "I can't… I can't go back to Stonehelm, I can't face them!"

"You're afraid?"

"Of course I'm afraid. I can't go back, no… they'll hate me for failing!"

Something warned Sareth that he was on the verge of loosing her to grief and doubt, she was slipping back further and further. He was going to have to do something quite radical.

The young man stood up and placed both hands on her shoulders.

"Leanna, listen to me." He began. "Listen, do you think your uncle would want you to think like this?"

She glared up at him, as if suddenly outraged he would use Menelag's name to further his arguing point.

"Look, this is going to sound harsh but people die all the time. How do you think I feel, Phenrig killed his servants in that horrible ritual and they were people I'd grown up around as well.

You still have a family to go back to."

She looked at him with a startled expression evidentially forgetting that he had no place anymore; that he had been cast completely adrift and had no place to which he could return.

"Don't you have a mother or father?" She asked.

"I suppose that I must have." Sareth admitted. "Although I haven't the faintest idea who they were. Phenrig raised…" He stopped himself. "…Phenrig taught me things I needed to know but I don't know who gave me to him to do that."

He could no longer say Phenrig raised him as, now that he thought about, the wizard hadn't. Phenrig had merely taught the boy some things and waited for him to grow up.

Before either of them could say anything else there was a knock at their door. The door opened without their prompting and a Dark Elf came into the room. He was obviously a servant of some kind as his uniform showed and he carried with him two trays, one in each hand.

"Your dinner honoured guests." He remarked and laid the trays down on the table by the door.

The food he had brought spelt so good after so long on travel rations that they both moved to the table nearly instantly. The servant bowed to them before leaving them to their meal.

Leanna said nothing after they had finished eating yet clearly she was still subdued. At least she wasn't crying anymore and Sareth supposed that this was the best he was going to be able to get today.

It wasn't long after that when Raelag came to their chamber. Surprisingly however he was not there to talk with Leanna.

He strode into the room with a purposeful expression on his face and they both looked up at him, surprised that in his unannounced entry.

"Excuse me, but I must talk with the young man in private M'lady." He remarked with a short bow to Leanna. Before she could answer, the clanlord walked up to Sareth and took him by the arm.

"You and I need to discuss certain important matters." He told him and then proceeded to remove him from the room.

Once they were outside, Raelag shut the door behind them so that Leanna could not ease drop and then turned about to look the surprised Sareth straight in the face.

"How much do you know?" He demanded so harshly that the young man backed off a step.

"About what?" He asked in a genuine tone of ignorance. Realag softened his own glare and pressed his lips together.

"About this operation." He began again, this time a lot more slowly and far less passionate. "About the Cult that Menelag took you away from."

"Nothing." Sareth replied. "I've been trying to work this out myself. It wasn't until Menelag arrived that I had any idea why Phenrig wanted me."

He phrased his statement to give over the impression that he was completely clueless and watched Raelag's expression soften once more. It became clear to Sareth even at this early stage that Raelag knew something, something that he did not want to share.

"Ohh how very shrewd." Xana agreed.

Suddenly Raelag's eyes widened as if he heard her voice and his gaze darted over Sareth as if he were looking for something.

Then he found it. He reached forward and into the young man's shirt, grasping the amulet and yanking it forward despite the chain around his neck.

He glared with an expression of growing anger at the icon engraved on its surface.

"Who gave you this?" He demanded. "Answer me! Who?"

"Phenrig." Sareth managed to say despite the fact that Raelag was chocking him. With a look of pure disgust, the Dark elf released his grip and Sareth fell back against the wall gasping.

"Alright, come on out." He began glaring around at the empty air. "I know a binding icon when I see one. I know you're there, come on out now!"

There was silence.

"I can force you out if necessary." He added with a venomous remark as slowly raised his hand.

A moment later, Xana appeared, manifesting beside them both. Apparently Sareth was not the only one with the ability to see her. Perhaps it required a certain degree of magic talent to behold her form but whatever the reason, Raelag could definitely see her.

"I might have known." He spat. "I could have expected they'd never let him wander loose without someone to hold his lease!"

"Wait, you don't understand!" Xana began to him.

"Save your breath!" Raelag told her. "I'll not be risking my city and my people to host the likes of you!" He held up his hand towards her in a gesture that Sareth recognised instinctively as the posture one assumed before using a spell.

Without thinking he put himself between the Clanlord and Xana, spreading his arms out to bar the way.

"Move aside!" Raelag snapped his voice like the crack of a whip. Sareth stood there, honing his newly acquired defiant spirit in the face of this new challenge to its integrity.

"No."

"I said, move aside!"

"She's my friend, I won't let you hurt her!"

"Friend? Friend?! Have you any idea what she is?" The clan lord jabbed a finger at the girl. "She's a…" he froze, his gaze fixed on the pleading expression Xana had on her face; her imploring eyes wide and thick with emotion. Her mouth was ajar in a horrified gape at what he might say next.

"Oh." Raelag started again, a lot softer this time. Slowly he lowered his hand. "I see." To Sareth's surprise the Dark Elf actually looked a tiny bit embarrassed. "Well that certainly puts this on a different footing." He continued before taking another moment to look the pair of them over.

"Look just, leave her alone." Sareth insisted.

"I'm going to have to now." Raelag replied irritably. "It used to be simple. Now the two of you have made this situation needlessly complex." He folded his arms behind his back and paced for a moment, as if trying to think of what to do now.

Xana took the opportunity to disappear, fading away as quick as she could. Sareth glanced back at the empty space where she'd once been.

"Alright boy." Raelag began once she's gone. "I'll forget she exists, for now. What I need to know is what you intend to do."

"I intend…I what?" Sareth asked, put off guard by this apparent sudden change of stance.

"You're here in my city and under the protection of the Shadowbrand. That much I give you because of my interests in thwarting the designs of the cultists and as much as Menelag needed you to be. What happens now is your decision."

"My decision?"

Now it seems was the time to make that choice.

He had gone further away from Phenrig than he had hoped now and all that remained to leave that part of his life behind forever was to make a choice, his own decision out from under Phenrig's thumb.

"I want to learn magic." He blurted out. "All magic's of all races."

Raelag raised an eyebrow.

"Well," The Dark Elf started. "…that's certainly ambitious."

"Leanna told me that you're an authority on elemental magic." Sareth continued. "I was hoping that perhaps you might consent to be my teacher."

"Elemental magic?" Raelag actually sounded a bit offended. "Is that honestly what the humans think we practise down here?" He muttered some illegible after that and looked thoughtful. "I will consider your application." He eventually replied. "But even if I accept you as a pupil you won't be an ordinary student. Too many people are interested in owning you to make that possible."

"I don't suppose you'll tell me why?"

"Quite frankly, no. Enjoy the hospitality of my house young Sareth because I doubt the life you'll live is going to have much hospitality in it at all."


	8. Part 2, chapter 7

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Sanctuary, however temperamental, had been found and for the first time in a while Sareth actually had time and opportunity to loosen his grip on the anxieties that had plagued him. Doing so all in one go proved to be a mistake as he began trembling beyond his ability to control.

To his intense relief he was informed by the servants that the stronghold had one of the largest sauna and baths in the Dark Elf kingdoms.

Sareth went down there immediately.

He was not quite prepared to the wide open pit that awaited him. Whenever he had washed it had been a private thing. This public concept where many could bathe at one time seemed a bit alien and intimidating to him.

Another shock was the clear differences between the ways the sexes were treated here.

In the human cities and settlements men and women were kept separate and men had the leading roles in society. Dark Elves had taken this concept and reversed it. There was no segregation of men and women and women were the ones that had the mass majority of the power. The baths therefore were for both men and women and they bathed together, often naked.

Sareth simply stood at the entrance to the baths, unable to take his eyes off the crowd of naked Dark Elven ladies who seemed oblivious to his presence. They all had the most perfect ample forms and had no shame in exposing themselves. Sareth was about to retreat in shame when Xana manifested behind him.

"Get in there!" She told him and gave him a playful push, shoving him into the baths.

Servants to the side took his clothes from him. His belongings were placed on stone shelves and all he was given to cover himself with was a white towel.

Despite his embarrassment he managed to make it into the water without exposing too much of himself. The bath itself was a large round basin formed from a natural cave, built into the lowest part of the citadel. Carved steps lead down into the water and there were benches under the surface where people could sit and enjoy the steam that rose and hung in the air.

The water was wonderfully warm and amazingly effective. He stopped trembling almost immediately and a few moments later the knots in his muscles unwound. He immediately slumped down with a relaxed sigh.

There was a short splash to his left and looking around, he saw Xana slid into the water.

Now he could see that she was solid. Xana was no mere phantom that only those gifted with sorcery could see. Her body was quite substantial. Oh yes… her body certainly captivated his attention. Her white dress was gone and now she dipped into the water completely naked.

She let out a hot sigh as the water tended to her.

"Oh I've always wanted to try these things." She admitted with a smile, oblivious to the fact that Sareth had turned red.

This was a rather unique situation for him. He had thought nothing of seeking off to meet with girls when still under Phenrig's roof but that had been mere adolescent fun brought about in part by rebellion for Phenrig's dictatorial running of his life. Xana was a friend and somehow this was far more personal.

"You might as well get used to it." She commented while keeping her eyes closed as she enjoyed the water. "If you intend to do a lot of travelling then you're going to encounter different cultures with different belief systems and values."

She winked at him slyly and her breasts bobbed in the water.

Sareth swallowed hard.

"How do they get the water in here?" He asked out load as if trying to change the subject. "And how do they keep it warm?"

"Oh that's simple." A voice stated. Sareth looked over to his right. A Dark Elf was enjoying the water, soaking there with a wet towel draped across his forehead. He was skinny but quite short for his race making him Sareth's own height gave or take a few inches. His dark violet hair was matted wet and quite short compared with that of the other elves. Like them however his face was angular with pronounced cheekbones.

His friendly face was tattooed with trident angular markings that encircled his eyes and ran up and down both sides of his head. The intimidating marks did little to ruin his boyish handsome face however.

"See there?" He began, gesturing towards the centre of the bath. The water there was whiter than the rest and bubbled more and it seemed to be the source of the heat in the barth. "This is a natural hot spring. It bubbles up hot from deep in the earth and comes out here."

"Wouldn't hot spring water so close to the source be too hot to sit in?"

"Not at all. It has to come through a shelf of bedrock before it gets here and that cools it enough. Supposedly it picks up minerals along the way and it's that it's healthy to bathe in it regularly." The Dark elf shrugged. "I can't tell much difference though." He offered a hand forward. "The name's Lethos."

"Sareth." The young man stated in reply introducing himself.

"Ah!" The elf's eyes brightened. "You're the human the clanlord's taking on as a pupil." He glanced across at Xana. "Who's the woman? Is she your slave?"

Xana opened an eye and stared at him with a level unfriendly gaze.

"What? Oh no, this is Xana." Sareth started, only half realizing that Lethos had enough magical training required in order to see her. "She's my..." he paused, unsure of what he should say. He had to come up with something concrete to explain her presence.

"…my sister." He eventually blurted out.

Xana stared at him with wide eyes.

"Of course, forgive me, I'm not sure how women are treated amongst humans so I wasn't sure how you might view them." Lethos began again.

"Well we certainly don't make them slaves."

The dark elf managed a grin.

"Well it seems the stories I hear in taverns are greatly exaggerated then. It's said that humans bind their women to the kitchens and that their only purpose within the family is to be married out to form alliances."

Sareth opened his mouth to retort and then shut it again. That was an unpleasant thought. Lethos was quite correct is his assumption about the roles women held within human society although it wasn't slavery.

Or was it?

Certainly it wasn't on an equal level with the men but it could hardly be called slavery. Or maybe it could, perhaps from the Dark Elf point of view.

That was an uncomfortable thought and he decided to divert the conversation to something else.

"So Raelag's agreed to take me on as a pupil then?" He sounded hopeful. Lethos shrugged and then relaxed back in the water.

"From what I gather, yes. Usually outsiders aren't to be schooled in the warlock magics, it's not exactly forbidden but it's a taboo thing. It was quite a surprise when Raelag began making arrangements for your tutelage. The Shadow Mistress' weren't happy about it."

"Shadow Mistress? Who are they?"

Lethos turned and stared at Sareth with wide eyes.

"You mean… humans have never heard of them?" He sounded amazed.

"I can't speak for all humans, but I certainly haven't."

The dark elf let out a long pent up breath.

"Oh that's going to be a blow to their ego."

"The Shadow Mistresses are the highest Priestesses of Malassa, my dear brother." Xana explained keeping an eye on Sareth with a disapproving look at his choice of disguise for her. "It's an order that exists within all Dark Elf cities. Its members are exclusively female and with the exception of Clan Lords have absolute authority within this society."

"You appear well versed in our customs, m'lady." Lethos told her.

"I know a few things." She admitted. "Such as you are an assassin; Stalker class if I'm right."

Sareth looked at Lethos with alarm. The elf smiled quite innocently.

"Ooh what gave me away?" He asked without sounding the least bit concerned.

"Little bits and pieces." Xana told him with a shrug. "The way you sit, the way you move your arms… little precise movements that tell of training in the arts of stealth and intrigue."

Sareth just sat there looking at the elf in horror.

"It's alright, my sibling." The woman at his side told him. "To Dark Elves, being an assassin is one of the greatest honours that can be afforded to them. Their entire society is almost entirely based on murder and espionage."

"Our markets are flooded with poisons from all over Ashan." Lethos laughed. "If one is an important person in a position of authority he is at risk from poisonings all the time.

Statesmen have to regularly take antidotes in order to survive. If they don't hire bodyguards to protect themselves, someone will stick a knife between their shoulder blades and they never go out in public if they can help it.

One never knows where someone skilled with a crossbow might be hiding."

Sareth began to feel just a tiny bit unsafe.

"Oh don't worry about it." Lethos remarked. "We don't target people without valid reasons so as long as you don't upset anybody, you're perfectly safe."

"Unless you upset those Shadow Mistress' too much." Xana added and Sareth turned pale despite the heat.

"I think you'll like it here." The elf carried on. "We're a delightfully despicable people. In war we poison and murder our enemies and during peace we poison and murder each other."

"What for?"

"Varied reasons. Some for political gain, others for money…" Lethos shrugged. "… and of course there are those who do it for fun."

"Fun?"

"Once or twice you get someone who kills for the sheer pleasure of it. It crops up in all peoples from time to time, especially the Dwarves, but in Dark Elf society such people are seen as a valuable commodity. Allies useful to have on the battlefield but social contact is usually avoided.

Even we have our limits after all."

Despite his open admission of his occupation Lethos was a charming, witty personality who always seemed to have a joke up one sleeve. Sareth found it impossible to connect him with the merciless disposition required for political murder.

The ritual the cultists had performed around him had left Sareth with an utter contempt for those who took the lives of others and he had thought that this conviction was ironclad now. Lethos was simply too likeable to hold that against him.

The evening dragged on and once they were done with the bath, they moved on to something called a Steam Room. Sareth could see the name was literal. The water had softened his muscles and the thick warm steam finished them off.

"Oh." Lethos began suddenly after ten minutes.

"What is it?" Sareth asked looking up. The dark elf gestured with a toss of his head towards one of the others who they shared the large room with. He was more heavily built than the other elves around him and his cheekbones seemed even more pronounced.

His hair was raven black and long, reaching to his shoulders. His face was pinched in giving him a near constant scowl and his dark eyes only intensified the look.

"That's Vayshan." Lethos told him. "He's one of the ones you tend to avoid." Even though this was one of his own kind, Lethos' voice spoke volumes of contempt. "He kills for pleasure."

Sareth looked the elf on the other side of the room over with a critical eye. This one certainly had the appearance one might expect from an assassin.

"Pleasure?"

"He hunts."

"Hunts?"

"He's not open about it…" Lethos began keeping his voice to a whisper. "But occasionally he takes those who pledge loyalty to him out into Irollan."

"I thought the two factions of elves aren't allowed in each others domains?"

"They're not. But Vayshan doesn't leave any traces of his presence there, or any witnesses."

Sareth looked around at Lethos with wide eyes.

"You're not telling me…" He began with a hint of horror in his voice.

Lethos looked quite sober.

"Personally I consider it a sickening practise." He began keeping his voice low. "But there are those amongst the clans that pay good money to join in those hunts."

The scowling elf glanced up at them, his eyes seeking them out despite the foggy steam. His nose wrinkled as if he had smelt something offensive and he stood up. Without a word he walked over and stared them down.

"You..." He began, looking directly at Sareth. He sniffed and then took his head back. "The stink of Sylvan is all over you."

Both Lethos and Xana looked alarmed.

"You've been around those Irollan filth and recently." Vayshan carried on. "Where you one of my kind I'd have to flayed for associating with them!"

"Well I'm not one of your kind so what business is it of yours who I talk to?" Sareth demanded. He did not care how bad a reputation this bully had, he was not going to sit here and listen to him badmouth Wyngaal and his elves.

Vayshan's eyes widened.

"Sareth…" Lethos began warningly.

"Nobody talks back to me!" Vayshan snapped. Everyone in the room was watching them, no one daring so much as to breath.

Sareth stood up as well. Now he was irrationally angry.

"And no one comes up to me and tells me who I can and can not meet."

"Sareth, don't pick a …" Xana tried to tell him but her words seemed to be lost as his blood surged.

"Watch your mouth human!" The elf told him through clenched teeth. "Sylvan's are putrid scum and I'll not have you bringing their smell into our domain. Indeed what you do outside our dungeons is your own affair but as long as you reside here by our hospitality you will do as I say!"

Sareth instantly saw precisely what kind of person Vayshan was. He was a bully, even to his own kind. If they didn't do what he wanted them to he got nasty, even so much as to impose his preconceptions on visitors.

"One; it's not YOUR hospitality I'm receiving its Lord Raelag's." He began. "Two, I decide who I make friends with and Three…" He drew himself up. "I don't take orders, especially not from you!"

Sareth could not have known but his eyes were intently bloodshot, as if they had turned completely red and his pupils took on a golden tint. He was angry... very anger, more angry than he'd ever been.

All the frustrations he'd thought were gone all came racing to the surface, vented by this obnoxious elf and the excuse he had offered him.

His face going near white with rage Vayshan raised his fist.

Sareth's anger exploded and there was only a piercing ringing in his ears. He parried aside the blow with a flick of his hand and lashed out in retaliation, his own blow flying out far more quickly that should have been possible. It was a powerful punch that connected with the chest.

Vayshan was thrown back and landed with a thud on the ground.

The Dark Elves around them looked stunned. Their mouths were open in clear astonishment and none of them looked more stunned than Vayshan. He lay there on the cloud floor one hand clutched to his side across the blackening bruise blemishing his pale skin.

"Oh dear." Lethos began, looking alarmed.

Having vented all his anger in that blow, Sareth stood there breathing hard. His eyes returned to normal completely unseen to those around him.

Vayshan tried to stand up but he grunted in pain. It was clear that several of his ribs had been broken by the powerful blow.

The elves around them all began muttering in amazement, hushed words passing back and forth as the beginnings of rumours that might spread through the city took to life.

"You… you filthy human!" The elf gasped, his arms wrapped around his sides. "I'll kill you for this, I swear it!"

"What's going on in here?" The door to the Steam Room swung open and several Dark Elves in armour plating came in. Their armour was the same as the reptile riders who had accompanied them into the city. Clearly they also served as Peacekeepers in the city.

They looked around at the injured Vayshan, taking in the situation.

"Brawling is prohibited with public places." Their leader announced. "That is Lord Raelag's law, human. They are not to be broken."

"It was provoked captain, I can assure you." Lethos stated, coming to Sareth's defence. "Vayshan antagonized the young man."

The captain grunted and looked down at the elf on the floor. There was an amused sudden glint in the Captain's eyes.

"Vayshan, this is the third incident in the last month you've gotten yourself involved in. Although this is the first time someone hit you." He actually sounded amused.

Vayshan snarled at him and managed to stagger to his feet. He kept his arm on his side and his teeth barred.

"I demand that this human be arrested for assault!" He snapped.

"You don't give us orders, Vayshan." The captain stated with new flinty edge to his voice. "We keep the peace under direction of Lord Raelag."

"Bah to Sheogh with Raelag." Vayshan replied angrily. "His order means nothing when he allows mongrel races to assault Dark Elves in their own domain."

"Get yourself to a healer before I have to arrest you for disturbing the peace." The captain said and then looked at Sareth. "As for you, get your clothes and then come with us. I have to keep hot heads apart."

Whatever sympathizers Vayshan had helped him limp out of the room but they lingered just long enough for the Dark Elf to sent Sareth a glare of utter contempt and hate.

Sareth did as he was told and changed back into his clothes and his mind was troubled. In that single instant of anger he had summoned forth strength that should not have been possible for a human being. Even now he could see feel the pulsing power in his arm, gently waning as the adrenaline wore off.

Even if anger that amplified his strength he doubted he would have been capable of breaking someone's ribs with a single blow like that. Perhaps he was stronger than he himself thought. He didn't look particularly strong and his frame was quite wiry.

"Alright, now listen up." The Captain told him, interrupting his trail of thought. Lethos had arrived with him and went about changing his own clothes.

"Vayshan is a bigot." Lethos told the captain. "You're not going to take him seriously are you?"

"Of course not." The captain replied with a toss of his head. "He's a trouble maker we'd have run out of town long ago if he weren't so revered by the assassins." He looked at Sareth. "I'm going to let this go. I won't take you to the barracks and you can go. My advice… lay low and stop getting into these incidents.

Vayshan isn't the only character that causes trouble. Now go on, get yourself back to wherever you hold lodgings and don't let me catch you in this again."

He dismissed them all by turning about and leading his men away.

Hearing the mutterings of the various people around him, Sareth decided he had just been given good advice and he made to leave.

He was stopped however when Lethos laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Hold on there." He said. "I'd rather you did not go away thinking this all a bad experience." There was a roguish smile on his face. "Human you may be but I would sincerely like to know anyone who can tweak Vayshan's nose so thoroughly."

"I made myself an enemy there.

"True but it's fun. An ordinary, boring man can go through his entire life not making any enemies at all. It's ones with the exciting lives that earn enemies."

"That's a strange ideology."

"Its serves." He offered forth a hand. "What say you, friend Sareth?"

In this time of sparse friends and allies Sareth was more than happy to acquire one more.

When he returned to his rooms in the fortress of Raelag, Leanna was not there. The rooms were empty save for a collection of new clothes laid upon the bed waiting for him.

"What was that 'sister' business about?" Xana asked as she manifested again.

"It was the only thing I could think of at the time." Sareth explained, picking up a new tunic and examining it.

Xana looked annoyed.

"Sareth, you don't know what restriction that just placed upon me."

"Restriction?"

"Yes. Because now I can't do this in company."

She kissed him.

It wasn't a quick peck or a simple show of affection. Her arms wrapped around him a tight embrace he couldn't wriggle out of and her lips were pressed against his before he could say a word.

For a single stunned moment her lips were held there and then she released him and clung to his body, refusing to let go.

"You defended me!" She was almost crying now. "Oh Sareth you defended me!" She actually sounded astonished at it.

Now they were alone she displayed all the pent up emotion that had been brewing inside her.

She looked up at him with her arms still wrapped in a bear hug.

"I pledge my guardianship to you, again and again until the end of days! I will continue to protect and watch over you."

Sareth didn't knot how to react for a moment and so he did nothing. He stood there feeling her warmth against his.

Then the natural thing came to him and he gently laid his hands on her and held her close.

"Why? Why did you do it though?" She asked after a long moment of silence as she rested her head on his chest. "After what Phenrig ordered me to do in that ritual…"

"But you didn't do it." He reminded her softly. "Xana, you said no. That's why I protected you."

"I will be punished for it." She muttered.

"Phenrig can't hurt you."

"You don't understand. Phenrig is nothing! There is one from whom I can not escape, from whom there is no respite and by shielding you I have earned his wrath." A frightened tone came flooding into her voice. "It's only a matter of time and when he finds me my soul will be subject to ever lasting torment."

"Who?"

"I can't speak his name, he'll know where I am in an instant if I do… but know this…" She looked up directly into his eyes, her tears just beginning to form. "Whatever time I have with you is worth an eternity of torture."


	9. Part 2, chapter 8

Chapter 8

It wasn't long before he found Leanna the next morning. She had been standing watch over her uncle's body in the cold crypt that Raelag had provided for it. She had wrapped herself in a bearskin robe and sat there for the entire night. She was oddly resigned when she emerged, her face emotionless and straight and that worried Sareth even more had she been crying.

When she noticed his scrutiny she forged a smile that was an obvious feint. He didn't say anything and accompanied her to Lord Raelag's throne room.

Raelag's throne room was not entirely what Sareth had expected. While he had never been admitted to one before he had a mental image of what one might look like. It was a tall, almost narrow room made from an almost complete stone block and carved out and then fitted with basalt pillars to keep the roof from collapsing. The walls were bare and polished like marble with only the ceiling and floor allowed to hold any markings at all.

The room was lit by two ivory bowls either side of the throne itself, of the various Dark Elven clans and the banner for the Shadowbrand hung above the throne itself.

Soldiers stood to attention at either side of the door, footmen in armour armed with swords and shields. Since the backbone of Dark Elf armies was reptilian cavalry, Sareth supposed that these were mostly for show.

The room was full of people, mostly dark elves although were also some well dressed humans in burgundy outfits that could only be merchants hoping to achieve some generous trade agreement.

Sareth sighted Raelag himself off to one side. He was talking with a strange tall, thin man who wore a dark robe.

Beside him, Leanna drew in her breath with a hiss.

"That man." She began in a low voice, her gaze fixed upon the dark figure. "He's a Necromancer!"

Sareth looked up at the man again, taking in more details this time.

He was wiry and he made no attempt to hide that fact with his robes, keeping it fixed to his body by black belts wrapped around his waist. Over his left shoulder he wore a pauldron that seemed to be made out of bone marrow, shaped for purpose with intimidating spikes curved upwards from the back.

His face almost square in shape, worry lines showed here and there to mar his near flawless complexion. His hair was dark and long, tied back into a pony tail behind him. What attracted the most attention to anyone who might behold him was the mark across his brow, a strange dark tattoo in the shape of a venomous spider.

Just by looking at him Sareth felt a cold dread come over him. He couldn't explain this feeling yet the merest glimpse of that dark figure sent an involuntary shiver down his spine.

"Sareth, be careful!" Xana warned him in the silent reaches of his mind. "That's Arantir!"

"Arantir?"

"He's a member of the High Council of Heresh, one of the most powerful Necromancers there are."

Sareth paused, a few thoughts racing through his mind. Menelag had said that the Wight that had claimed his life could only be summoned by Necromancers and here was one, so conveniently close. He cast a glance at Leanna and the angry, near hate filled expression she bore told him that she had come to the same conclusion.

"We don't know for sure." He warned her, whispering to her although the words sounded hollow in his mouth. Sareth suspected it as much as she did yet still he would like confirmation before he went accusing people, especially high ranking Necromancers.

The two of them edged closer through the crowd and after a moment they could hear Raelag and Arantir talk.

"No, this is too much you ask of me." Raelag was saying. "Especially now with the new church in a position of power at Talonguard."

"You worry too much about that order." Arantir replied with a frown.

"And I think you worry too little. My spies are better than yours and I know a few things about that church that cause me to look with great concern to my southern borders."

"Military campaigns are simply going to get in the way." The Necromancer stated. "Drastic action had to be taken and soon. Your skills are needed."

"Indeed. More so here, defending my people, than on some wild goose chase looking for a relic that might not even exist."

Arantir was about to retort but Raelag cut him off when he noticed they were being watched.

"Ah, lady Leanna." He began with an obviously forged smile. "I hope you are faring better this day."

Leanna did not reply; her steady penetrating gaze was fixed directly on the Necromancer. Arantir returned her stare without so much as blinking once.

"It would seem I am not desired here." He remarked stating the obvious. "Obviously the reputation of my people is marred amongst the Free Cities."

"Well be honest Arantir, it's a reputation that's been well earned." Raelag commented dryly.

Arantir did not look impressed.

"As the hierarchy of Heresh have made clear on many occasions, Markal was rouge. He was acting without authorisation from the council and we continue to denounce his annexing of the Griffin Empire and his assault against Irollan."

"But not his attack against the Silver Cites?"

Arantir shrugged.

"We are at war with them constantly anyway, perhaps if he had left his campaign to just that we might have overlooked his insubordination. But our position will continue to be strict neutrality in the affairs of the northern kingdoms."

Leanna's harsh glare continued.

"I can see you have pressing business. Perhaps we may speak later, Lord Raelag; I hope I have your permission to withdraw?"

"Of course."

Arantir made a stiff bow and then left and Leanna watched him as he made to leave. Anyone in his bath stepped aside instantly, fearing his passage. Before he left, he cast a glance back over his shoulder and Sareth felt the Necromancer's attention focused on him. His pale blue eyes were penetrating and the boy could not help but shrink under their gaze.

Then the doors closed and Arantir was gone.

"You know how Menelag died don't you?" Sareth asked without looking at Raelag.

"Oh I know." The Dark Elf lord replied watching Arantir leave. "Don't let his words fool you boy, Arantir is just as much a rogue was Markal was, probably more-so. He simply goes to greater lengths to conceal the fact than Markal ever did."

"Then why admit him to our throne room?"

"I do so because he and I have a shared interest." Raelag stated. "While we don't agree on each others methods we both want the cultists crushed." He moved to sit on his throne. "I do want them gone for political and personal reasons. Arantir does it because of religious obligation."

"But what about Menelag?" Sareth began but Leanna cut him off.

"The abominations of Necromancers killed my uncle." She remarked acidly. "And here one is… so close at hand. He should be brought her to answer charges."

""I'm afraid there is little apart from circumstantial evidence to link Arantir to the murder." Raelag sighed, sitting down. "For the moment at least, he enjoys something in the realm of diplomatic immunity."

"You have open talks with Heresh?" Sareth sounded a little amazed.

"Hardly. I have a non aggression pact with them that is all. If I start negotiating with Necromancers I'd be in trouble with most of the northern realms. I don't want to get into a war with the undead however so we agree not to attack each other. That's the best I can do without bringing the combined wrath of Irollan, the Griffon Empire and the Silver Cities down on my head."

He sighed.

"Allies come in unexpected places."

Sareth felt a momentary chill going through him. Xana had said the same thing of the people who had come to Phenrig's that terrible night.

"Now, as for you." Raelag began again turning to look directly at him. "Are you still serious about your application to be my student?"

Leanna looked up at the boy in surprise.

"You asked to be his pupil?" She asked.

Sareth nodded once.

"Why not?" He asked.

"I have given it some thought." The Dark Elf interrupted with his eyes intent. "You are not the only one to ask for the privilege of tutoring, however. It would appear that my reputation spreads further than I imagined and people assume I take apprentices."

"Don't you?"

"Not everyone. Only those who already display a certain degree of skill in the arts of magic may be accepted. I'm much too busy to run a school for amateurs.

If I accept you, you'll be trained alongside others in the arts that require the maximum amount of dedication and discipline. I will accept nothing less. Do you understand?"

Sareth was silent for a moment. He wanted to learn magic, that was a drive in him that had only grown as time past but this sounded like a great deal of hardship that he had let himself in for without realising it.

But then again, if he was going to pursue this lofty goal of his then surely it was worth the effort? He had already endured a lot to get here and the more he thought about it, the more he felt assured that he could handle anything the Dark Elf method of education could throw at him.

"Yes." He remarked. "I understand."

"Good." Raelag actually sounded pleased. "I then accept you as my apprentice. Lessons with your fellow students begin in one weak. Use that time to prepare yourself."

The words 'prepare yourself' had a strange overtone to them that gave Sareth the awful image of unspeakably hard toil.

"Well you did ask for it." Xana told him unsympathetically.

For the next two days, Sareth sat in meditation. He surprised even himself with that but the training regime Phenrig had forced him thought gave him the instinct to hone his mind and prepare himself mentally.

Instructions were to be delivered to him once the week was over and following those instructions was supposed to lead him to the training area. Sareth did not feel it was necessary to be quite so secretive. Again he was reminded of the intriguing nature of Dark Elf culture. Everything was based on secrets and plots so he supposed this made sense for them.

Leana was forced finally to deal directly with the consequences of her uncle's death and arrangements were made to ferry the body back to the Free city of StoneHelm. Surprisingly, she was not going with it.

"Shouldn't you be attending the funeral?" Sareth asked her on the morning of the third day. The body had left the city, bound for the surface last night yet she had remained here.

"I can't face them." She replied. "How can I stand there amongst them after I promised them I'd keep him safe and failed?" She shook her head. "No, if nothing else I think I need time in order to work this out by myself."

Sareth had little choice but to accept that. He doubted her relatives would really be so unforgiving but they weren't the one with the problem. Leanna needed time and here was as good a place as any to get that time.

Perhaps a bit of revenge might help her along as well.

He stopped at that thought. Justice, he corrected himself quite quickly. Not revenge, justice. The Necromancer who had summoned those Ghouls and Wights had to pay for Menelag's murder.

The only real lead he had on that front was Arantir.

Like a visitor of nobility the Necromancer stayed in a manor near the market district of the city, or at least that was what he had been told. If Raelag was not going to investigate the possible connection then someone had to.

"And that someone would be you, I take it?" Xana asked sceptically, sharing his thoughts on the matter. "Sareth, Arantir is a powerful mage as well as a Necromancer. Menelag and Phenrig both pale in comparison to him. If he catches you sniffing around his personal effects…" She left it hanging to allow his imagination to take over.

"I know, I know." He told her out load. "Believe me, I know." That gaze the Necromancer had levelled at him in the throne room had chilled him. Behind those eyes were the indented impressions of undeniable magical power. He was not stupid enough to make the fatal mistake of challenging Arantir directly.

Xana manifested beside him, wearing a new gown that seemed popular amongst dark elf women.

"No, what I need is some help." Sareth mused. "Professional help."

Lethos, the Dark Elven assassin, was waiting for them outside the fortress when they emerged to venture out into the city. He wore a dark clock, typical of most Dark elves and were it not for his violet hair his nondescript appearance might have made them overlook him.

"Come to my arms, my brother!" He declared, throwing his arms out wide when he saw them.

Both Sareth and Xana stood there looking stunned.

"Have you not heard?" He asked with a wide, smug grin. "We are to be training brothers, both of us under the unique tutelage of our Clanlord."

"What? You're a student?" He asked blinking.

"Of course!" Lethos looked utterly ecstatic. "It is a great honour! I shall not only be an assassin but a warlock as well! Oh the stories they'll write about us my new brother, what tales!" He seemed as trifle caught up in his self congratulatory world and Sareth wondered if he would be quite so jovial once the training began.

"It won't be easy." He told him.

"Of course it won't." Lethos remarked with a negligent wave of his hand. "I'm no stranger to harsh training. When I was being taught the assassins art, I had to ingest every known poison so I'd recognise their textures, tastes and effects."

Sareth blanched.

"And you lived?" He asked in wonder.

"Oh they give us the antidotes as well." Lethos added quickly. "Training amongst our people might be hard and sometimes cruel but they'll never let anyone die while taking it."

"Oh well that is comforting." Sareth remarked, not sounding convinced. Then a thought came to him. "Are you any good at…" He paused and groped around for the right word.

"Getting into places where you have no business in being?" Xana offered bluntly and Sareth shot her a glare.

Lethos laughed.

"I wouldn't be very good at my job if I weren't." He said with a chuckle. "I see a few days amongst our people have already corrupted you. How splendid. Who did you have in mind?"

"Oh no, I don't want anyone killed!" Sareth was quick to add. "I just need to do a little…er…snooping."

The Dark Elf shrugged.

"I can do that too." He put his hands on his hips. "And it'll cost you less than assassination you'll be glad to hear. Whose home do you want to try to get into?"

"Arantir's."

That single word changed the expression on Lethos' face instantly. His smile disappeared and his eyes went very wide.

"Now that's different." He told them after a prolonged moment of silence. "What in Malassa's name do you want to poke around that madman for?" Lethos asked. "I can think of safer targets if you want."

"No this is personal." The boy replied sternly. The elf sighed.

"Oh alright." He sounded resigned and more stunned than afraid. "For that kind of job you're going to need more help than just me to get into his manor house." He thought for a moment, placing a finger to his lips. "His place is bound to be full of magical traps and the like. I can spring a lock but I can't stop an enchantment from blasting me if I try."

"You might after Raelag's training."

"Are you prepared to wait?"

"No."

"Then we go ask for help."

Virbeth had several different districts all connected by wide stone walkways suspended hundreds of feet above the canyon floor. Lethos lead them across the length of one of these expanses to the market district, where the traders and merchants in abundance stayed. This district was balanced between three large stalactites, the buildings built into the rock to provide structural integrity. Between these buildings were the common markets, stalls manned by races from all across Ashan.

There were human merchants, both imperial and those from the free cities although they kept a respectable distance from each other. There were a few mages, identifiable by their exotics clothes and turbans selling relics that Sareth could not recognise.

What caught his attention was a large stall by the centre of the district. It was a cage metal bars connecting like a fence all the way around. A dark elf merchant stood there haggling with customers and inside his pen were about a dozen large creatures. In the light from the crystals that provided illumination to this subterranean world, Sareth could see they were Minotaurs.

Half men, half bull; they stood about six foot tall and were all incredibly well built. Their horns either side of their heads were curved and the lower halves of their bodies were those of upright bison. The sounds they made were an odd mixture of near human cackles and bison mooing.

These clearly powerful creatures just stood there submissively, chained to the ground and muzzled. They were kneeling in their own filth and the smell was disgusting and it was causing them some obvious distress.

Everyone knew Dark Elves were slavers. Minotaurs, Orcs, Goblins and even a few of their own kind they had put into enforced service over the years but this was the first time Sareth beheld a slave market.

"Something wrong?" Lethos asked, looking at Sareth.

"Why do they do that?" He asked. When Lethos raised a questioning eyebrow Sareth gestured towards the slaves. "Why keep them in such…" He wrinkled his nose. "…such filth?"

"They're just animals." Lethos remarked turning away as if it didn't matter. "A perverse thing some wizard came up with thousands of years ago. We put them to work, that's all."

Sareth looked at the minotaur's and shook his head.

"No." He remarked. "They're sentient and they don't deserve this."

Lethos laughed.

"Sentient! Hah, that's a good one." He slapped his thigh. "Oh now come on, lets go. There's someone at the tavern here I think you should meet."

Sareth stayed for a moment and then with his heart wrenched with pity, he turned away and followed his strength through the stands.

The tavern Lethos lead them to was a small building on the far side of the market. A sigh out front was written in a language Sareth did not recognise so the name of the place eluded him.

The place was actually larger on the inside than it was on the outside. It burrowed into the large stalactite behind it and there were several floors with stairs leading up and down to a bar and private rooms above.

There were a great many people here and Lethos had to negotiate his way through them in order to reach the stairs.

"Down here." He told them, directing them towards the bar. "I just hope he sticks to his drinking schedule."

"Who?" Xana asked but her question was instantly answered as somewhere off the in the crowd, someone started sing loudly.

At the bar there was perhaps one of the strangest sights Sareth had ever laid eyes on.

A man, a mage if his orange robes were any indication, sat on a stool waving a tankard in the air and sloshing ale in every direction with each swing. Despite having a vertically aligned face he was short and his skin showed that tanned quality that only came from long exposure to the elements. His beard was short but rugged almost like a bear's fur, black with a streaking of brown here and there.

For whatever reason he wore an eye patch over his left eye and his right was so dark it gave the illusion of blindness.

He wore a turban like all mages. It was orange to match his robes and was slopped to one side of his head in inattentive drunkenness.

He was a sight enough by himself but the stranger thing was his drinking partner. Sitting beside him was a small creature, no large than a child of eight, yet it had the proportions of something fully grown.

It was a curious and odd thing with strange grey, scaly skin and large ferret like ears on either side of its head. It had a crest running vertically up across its skull and down the back towards the neck. Its face had a curious, ape like quality to it yet the teeth in the mouth were jagged like a piranha and the eyes were flaxen yellow.

It was dressed in a robe of its own, lined with spoiled furs across the shoulders. It was patched in places and here and there it was darkened with spilt ale.

The strangest part of this display now was the fact that this creature also had a tankard in one hand and it was singing along with the man next to it. The two of them supported each other with lurching gestures as they sang, out of tune with their volume waxing and waning.

"Is that a Goblin?" Sareth asked Xana.

"Close." She replied. "Actually it's a Gremlin."

"Gremlin?" He repeated.

"After the goblins escaped from their masters, the wizards recaptured a few of them. Wizards don't really like it then their creations disobey, so they created Gremlins from those captured goblins. They're supposed to be more obedient and sensible." She cast a sceptical glance over the drunken pair. "Although now I think that the sensible part is debateable."

"Good, I don't think they've not too far gone." Lethos remarked, stepping forth. "Let's see if I can't get through to them." He moved to the singing pair and clicked his fingers in front of the mage's good eye.

The drunken man swerved his head around and blinked once at him.

"Oh it is yourself…" He muttered in a heavily accented voice before he toppled off his seat and onto the floor, his ale spilling from his tankard. The gremlin cackled at him loudly before it tipped backwards and with arms wailing it crashed down to the floor.

The crowd around them roared with laughter.

"Do we really need these two?" Sareth asked, casting Lethos a glance.

"They're not as drunk as they look."

"No, they're drunker."

Lethos managed to drag the mage back up onto the stool and prop him up.

"Havez, come on now I need to talk business." The elf started. The mage simply swayed back and forth as if he didn't comprehend. "Come on you can't have drunk that much already."

"Funny, some other guy bet we couldn't drink so much about an hour ago." The gremlin remarked, scrambling back to its own stool. Its voice was high pitched and guttural.

"We proved him wrong!" Havez declared, banging a fist down on the bar to the applause of the crowd around them. Lethos looked a little annoyed.

"Hmm, perhaps they ARE just a tad too thick headed." He reached into his robe and withdrew a small glass vial. It was corked and the substance within seemed to be a strange orange powder.

"Bartender, two more tankards of ale for my friends here." He called and Havez and his gremlin let out a loud approving roar.

He was quickly past the foaming mugs and he slid them across the bar towards the drunken pair. As he did so, he made a slight movement of his fingers over the foam. Sareth's eyes were sharp enough to catch the action of the delicate sprinkling of powder.

It was a subtle action that even had they been sober they might not have noticed and in their present state they simply picked up the tankards and proceeded to drink down the ale almost in one go.

Sareth watched intently.

The effects were almost immediate. The wizard was the first to react, his hand going to his throat and he started making loud strangled noises. His eyes bulged and he staggered forth off the stool. The gremlin followed next, falling back off his stool again and spinning about on the floor.

"Works every time." Lethos remarked to no one in particular, a smug grin on his face.

Havez turned blue, then pale white and finally a deep shade of green. With a hand over his mouth he bolted for a side door, shoving people out of his way in his hurry. His gremlin was close behind, swearing loudly in an unrecognisable language.

"Come on." Lethos told the two of them and ran after the wizard. Sareth and Xana followed.

The doorway led into a separate set of corridors where the latrines were housed. It was here they found the pair nosily emptying their stomachs.

"It's a special type of laxative that induces instant vomiting." The dark elf told Sareth as he patted the vial he had concealed back inside his robes. "I use it whenever I have to sober someone up real quickly."

"It seems to work wonders." Xana observed as the gremlin upchucked a lot more than it should have been possible for his small body to contain in the first place. Lethos smiled with a slight bow.

Havez was not immediately sober once he was finished emptying his stomach but he was certainly less drunk and another concoction that Lethos gave him was able to clear his mind. He sat down on the floor, whipping the back of his mouth and trembling slightly.

"Oh my head." He groaned, holding his head with both hands suddenly as if he were afraid it might fall off. "My brain's going to explode."

"Not before mine." His gremlin stated, collapsing back onto his back and rolling his eyes.

"You're exaggerating, Graug." Lethos told him. "You've been drunk before. You know all about those wonderful after effects."

"Exactly the kind of talk I'd expect from a teetotaller like you, Lethos." The gremlin replied, his large ears drooping. "I've never seen you touch a drop."

"I know of safer poisons than the concoctions taverns insist on serving." The elf stated. "I personally would rather my liver remained in perfect working order. Your's might be if you kept yourself clean for more than a week."

"Our liver is really none of your business so I don't think it was friendly to cleanse them for us." Havez said sharply and looked up with an annoyed glare on his face. He was clearly having trouble focusing but his mind was clearer, at least now to the point where he could understand what they were saying. "Alright, what is it? Since you insist on ruining our day I might as well listen."

Lethos smiled cheekily.

"Glad to hear it." He said and then gestured back. "This is Sareth, a friend of mine. He has a rather… interesting job in mind for me however I could use your expertise."

The mage managed to get back to his feet.

"Can it wait until my head stops screaming?"

"No not really." Lethos then turned to Sareth. "This is Havez. Rather an odd sort of mage really, eccentric and a little bit peculiar. Most of his fellows in the Silver Citites tend to avoid him."

"That is not true! The mage declared. "I'll club you if you say that again." He made a step forward but he staggered and then fell back against the wall.

"He does a lot of travelling, likes to pick up odds and ends from places." Lethos continued. "Quite a collector of the curiosities really and not to mention a professional Gremlin breeder."

"Don't talk about us like we're pedigree dogs, please." Graug said as he stared up at the ceiling with almost vacant eyes.

"He's the closest thing to a Wizard pirate there is." The elf added with a grin. "He's quite versed in protective enchantments so I thought of him right off."

To Sareth, Havez did not look like much. Perhaps his perception had been marred by their first meeting but whatever the reason Havez did not radiate the aura of professionalism that Sareth had been hoping for.

Neither did his partner, the gremlin Graug, who it appeared could soak up impossibly large amounts of ale.

So when they retreated to the back of the inn to a lonely table, he was not exactly optimistic about the aid he would get out of them.

"Get on with it then." Havez began after a moment, keeping a hand to his forehead. "Outline what you want and keep it brief. No fancy words I won't be able to grasp them."

Lethos shrugged.

"Very well." He said and proceeded to bluntly outline Sareth's desire to break into Arantir's manor house, evade the traps built into the place and emerge with their skin still on their bodies.

Despite the fact that the two of them were recovered from a chemically induced hangover, they listened to every word with their eyes slowly widening.

"It's ambitious, I'll give you that." Graug said with a low whistle.

"And dangerous." Havez added sternly. "I'm not so removed from the Silver Cities not to hear of the exploits of the Avatar of Death."

"The what?" Sareth asked.

Havez muttered something and then leaned back in his chair.

"About five years after Markal was killed and the Necromancers were driven out of the Griffon Empire, the hierocracy of the Necromancers had to select a new leader. There was the usual bickering and in fighting and my kinsmen thought it would be the perfect opportunity to march in and destroy them while they were dis-unified.

It was then he appeared, as if out of nowhere. Arantir."

Havez's face darkened.

"Three whole armies marched into Heresh and when they met with Arantir not one soldier returned."

Sareth blanched.

"He's the reason the war between the Silver Cities and Heresh has returned to a stalemate. Since then he earned the title Avatar of Death and might be considered the closest thing the Necromancer's have to a king of their own."

"So what's he doing here?"

"Who knows? If Raelag wants to chat with summoners of undead that's his business." The mage's expression turned a little wicked. "I'll admit that the prospect of proving Arantir responsible for at least one crime does warm my heart."

"I'm sure your kinsmen would appreciate it." Lethos chuckled.

"They might even let you back into Nawal." Grug offered but the smile disappeared from Havez's face.

"I doubt anything will have them forgive me after that Sulphuric container exploded. But I'd get in their good books at any rate."

Sareth wondered if perhaps he wasn't talking to the right people about this. But it was too late to back out of it now.

"So you'll help?" He asked.

"There's still the matter of the fee." Lethos reminded him.

"Fee?"

"We're professionals, Sareth. We don't work for free, especially not if you want to have us poking around a figure like Arantir."

Sareth hesitated.

"You want us to sneak into the residence of a power Necromancer and poke around his personal effects and you can't even pay us?" The Gremlin at the table asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Well I really don't have any money." The young man admitted, thinking of that complication for the first time.

Havez shrugged.

"Money is nice but there are other means of payment." He commented. Graug looked around at him with a despairing glance.

"Oh no, you're not thinking of…"

"Well, Arantir must have a large collection of odds and ends from his conquests in Heresh."

There was a gleam in the mage's eyes that despite his induced hangover hinted at kleptomania.

"I can only imagine… scrolls, artefacts, things stolen from the Silver Cities under the war of the Broken Staff, possible entire rooms full of nick knacks." He drummed his fingers against each other and he smiled ruefully.

Graug put his head down on the table and moaned.

"I understand your passion for interesting things to add to your collections yet I should point out the unlikelihood that Arantir brought any with him." Lethos offered but Havez shook his head.

"Any self respecting mage or necromancer brings equipment with him."

"Havez, you're going to get us killed!" The gremlin told him exasperatingly.

Before anyone could say anything further there was a sudden loud commotion from amongst the crowds at the bar.

Sareth glanced up to see a dozen or so large figures push their way through towards them. They were all dark elves with wraps around their chins to hide all of their faces except their red eyes. They wore chain mail shirts underneath and gauntlets made of silver.

"Uh oh." Lethos muttered with a look of serious intent coming onto his face.

"You, human!" The leader of this pack began, jabbing a finger at Sareth. "You are marked for death! No one dishonours Vayshan and lives!"

The elves had formed a half circle around them and then drew out their weapons, all crossbows with the strings taut.

"Now die you stinking ape!"


	10. Part 2, chapter 9

* * *

Chapter 9

* * *

-

Havez reacted far quicker than might be expected for someone in his post drunk condition. His foot came up sharply, knocking the table they were sitting around up. It acted like a shield taking the impact of the bolts and protecting them from harm. Chaos erupted and the air was full of shouts and screams.

The assassins drew their daggers and lunged. Selflessly throwing herself in front of Sareth, Xana raised her arms and erected a barrier between them and the elves. It sparked with bright blue bolts and threw back whatever force was used against it.

Graug wasn't idle. The gremlin reached into his robes and withdrew a round instrument. It was made of brass and wood with a hole in the top. A rim of spikes crowned the lid.

An assassin lunged at the small creature with a dagger held high. Graug easily sidestepped and bashed the elf across the head with his weapon as he past. The spikes cracked the skull and the assassin fell to the ground dead.

Lethos moved like lightning amongst them, darting in and out of their attacks slashing at them with a short sword. The blade was clearly poisoned as the elves which had been struck gargled instantly, clutching at their throats as they began to convulse. Lethos kicked the last one over before he reached into his clothes and came out with two glass vials. These he threw with deadly accuracy at their attackers. They broke open on contact with a bellowing cloud of green smoke.

The assassins inhaled in surprise and from that moment they were doomed. The poison attacked their lungs and they fell to the ground going black in the face.

Sareth clenched both fists, channelling the elemental energy he knew how to harness through his fingers. It sparked wildly before being unleashed as bolts of lightning.

The bolt soared through Xana's shield, striking the leader of the assassins directly in the face.

It had been more of a reflex action than a conscious choice. Sareth had never used his magic to kill someone before and even as he unleashed it he knew he had channelled too much into it than he had meant to. He tried to pull back but he had already committed himself.

The bolt of lightning struck the assassin full in the face and it kept going. It scorched the head clear off the shoulders, reducing it to ash instantly as it carried on past until it struck the far wall.

The body swayed there on its feet for a moment, blood spurting out of the severed neck before it toppled down with a loud crash.

He had just taken a life.

The reality of it came rushing in so quickly that it reached down into his very soul and paralysed him.

He stood there, shocked to the core with his eyes fixed on the hideous image of the decapitated elf which he had caused to be.

"Sareth, pull yourself together!" Lethos called back at him but Sareth barely even heard him.

The other assassins, their numbers reduced to about seven took one look at their dead and headless leader and with a scream of rage they leapt at the small group.

Havez grabbed a chair and whirling it over his head, smashed it into an elf and knocking him out of his frenzied charge.

Another assassin did an acrobatic back flip, daggers in both hands as he spiralled with him.

Graug saw him coming and raised his spiked club, pointing the barrel top directly at the elf.

"Cheque please." He muttered and he gave his weapon a sharp shake. There was a loud booming sound and the weapon was revealed to have a secondary usage.

A small round ball of lead about the size of a fist rocketed out of the hole in the top, trailing smoke as it soared forth. The projectile slammed into the assassin, the impact smashing his rib cage to pieces and sending him flying up until he smashed into the ceiling.

"I think we should leave." Havez said, holding one hand to his head.

"Seconded." Lethos replied and then he turned around to look at Sareth.

The young man simply stood there.

He was no stranger to the reality of death by now but this had been the first time he had actually taken someone's life.

The image of that headless corpse seared itself into his mind like a branding iron.

"Sareth, now is not the time!" Xana yelled at him and her voice brought him out of his trace.

Another assassin had made his way around the edge of the shield and the elf leapt at him with a dagger raised high.

It was if his reactions were on automatic even machine-like in its motion.

He reached out and sent a wave of energy directly at him. It wasn't even a spell he unleashed but something else… something far more powerful that consciously he would never have been able to use.

In this moment of horror filled detachment he had tapped into something far deeper than mana.

A thudding at the back of his mind roared into a mind crescendo and connecting with something that lay beneath Sareth simply reached forth his hand.

The air rippled as if caught in a hot up-draught and the assassin was blown back, tossed like a leaf in the wind before he crashed into the far wall behind him. He didn't stop there. The force that pushed against him slammed him through the wall completely and he disappeared through the hole and flew straight outside up and over the market.

He was thrown clear off the platform upon which the district stood, toppling and turning this way and that until he was over the abyss upon which the city hung.

Then he was allowed to fall.

He screamed once, the sound echoing across the cavern and directly into Sareth's head before he vanished into the darkness.

Everyone stooped right then and there. The assassin stood there in stunned awe, their red eyes wide in utter astonishment at the giant hole in the wall.

Graug, who had been in the process of hammering his mortar club against one of them, froze with his weapon still raised.

"What in the name of Asha was that?" Havez asked in utter amazement, dropping the chair he was wielding as a weapon. "That was no spell! That was… that was… I don't even know what that was!"

Sareth stood there, his arm still outstretched. He could still feel the power that he had thrown out tingling down his skin, gently fading as the adrenaline wore off.

Xana came to his side instantly.

"Sareth…" She started, looking into his unresponsive eyes. "Sareth talk to me!"

He blinked and then brought his hand down sharply.

"What…" He started breathlessly as he gazed at the hands that had killed with such ease. "How did I?"

The assassins fled after that.

They would not risk their necks to battle one who could kill them such ease. Their dwindled number simply turned and ran, leaving their dead lying on the ground where they had fallen. They bolted, running up the stairs towards the entrance to the tavern almost scrambling over each other.

"Whatever that is… it was impressive." Graug commented, raising a scaly brow with his ears twitching. "I'd say if he wants to poke around Arantir and he can do stuff like that then he hardly needs us."

"I suggest we continue this discussion elsewhere." Lethos recommended gesturing towards the back of the tavern and Havez nodded dumbly.

Sareth had been left so stunned that he didn't even notice when Xana pulled him towards a back entrance.

* * *

-

They retreated away from the market district before the militia could be called to the disturbance. Lethos took them to a deserted building that stood at the far side of one of the stone walkways that connected the cities districts. It was obviously a safe house set aside by the ShadowBrand intelligence agency for its spies to use whenever it was needful.

Sareth sat by himself, his thoughts racing and his stomach churning. Confusion bubbled through him. He had just killed someone, two people, one using magic and the other… using some force that had erupted from within.

"How did you do that?" Havez eventually asked when they were certain they were all safe and hadn't been followed.

Sareth just looked at his hand, the hand that he had gestured with to send the assassin plummeting to his death. The strange power that had filled it was now gone, or at least he could not feel it anymore.

"I… I don't know." He admitted, rubbing at his forehead. His temples itched irritably. Xana was watching him with a curious but clearly foreboding expression.

"Surely it's a spell you just haven't seen before." The Gremlin, Graug dismissed with a toss of his head.

Havez paused to consider this yet he did not look entirely convinced.

"Well you've certainly been making friends." Graug remarked to Sareth. "Dark Elf Assassins? Just who did you piss off?" He paused. "On second thought, I don't want to know. Keep your troubles to yourself. The less I know about THAT particular business the better."

"Perhaps we can pick up our discussion before we were so rudely interrupted." Lethos recommended. The Dark Elf appeared more at ease yet he still stood by the door of the safe house, positioned just so that he could see out of the window in case anyone decided to intrude.

"We were discussing payment I believe." Graug offered, rubbing his scaly hands together. "So… Sareth was it? What can you offer for our services?" The gremlin looked back at Havez. "He'll take a chance to rummage through Arantir's things as payment... as for me I need something a little more immediate."

"Will you take an I.O.U?" Xana asked.

Graug shot her a level gaze that was boarding on hostile.

"I'll take that as a no."

"I'll take anything of value, precious metals, gemstones, currency… at long as its worth something."

Sareth floundered. He didn't have anything to give him. He was penniless without as much as a coin in his pocket. Without even realizing it, his hand went to the amulet he wore around his neck. It was certainly made of a precious metal and might be worth something but… he looked over at Xana.

It was this thing that connected him with her and that he could not give up. Besides, the chain around his neck made it impossible for him to remove it even if he was inclined to.

Then he remembered.

With absolute reluctance, he reached into his pocket and took out the curled up Springer bow that had been Wyngaal's birthday present to him.

It was a precious thing, the first real gift given to him out of true friendship. He barely had in his possession a month and now he was giving it up.

Desperately he wanted to bring to justice the man who he suspected of responsibility for Menelag's murder.

He was certain that Wyngaal would understand.

Graug took the bow and flicked the switch that uncurled it. It sprang to its full length and it held it aloft in one hand to admire it.

"Very nice." He remarked. "Very nice indeed. Certainly would fetch a pretty penny."

"A Springer bow?" Havez breathed and then he glared down at the Gremlin. "You mercenary, Graug! You'd sell this? Have you no concept of its true worth… in Irollan, this is almost beyond priceless."

"Well this isn't Irollan." The gremlin replied. "My mortars good for any marksman work I need doing. Perhaps It'll do well on the black market, sell it back to the Tree huggers at three times the original price."

Havez made a face.

"You're disgusting."

"I know."

Xana turned to look at Lethos.

"And what about you?" She asked and he looked up as if he hadn't been listening to the conversation at all. "What will your price be?"

"If you were to try and employ me officially you wouldn't be able to afford it." He assured her with a quick grin. "This particular service I do out of friendship."

Sareth looked up and studied Lethos for a moment. That wide roguish grin was deceptive. There was clearly more to his decision that he was giving away. That was not an encouraging thought given Lethos' occupation.

"Then we're all agreed." Havez started, adjusting his orange robes. "Arantir's mansion."

"It lies near the citadel." Lethos told them. "Although not patrolled by any of Raelag's militia. I suspect Arantir will have guards of his own."

Sareth told them all about the Wight and described the dark spirit. He was unfamiliar with summoning magic so he could only go by hat he saw of the creature itself.

Graug spat on the floor at the description.

"It's an elemental." He replied. "Same as a fire elemental or water elemental, only their element is darkness."

"And darkness is hungry." Havez added with a nod. "Its void devours the souls of its victims not out of any need for sustenance but rather for a desire to inflict torment." He shuddered. "A horrible thing to call forth."

He paused to tap the end of his chin in thought.

"Now… once we get inside, what we ought to look for is a summoning platform. Any elemental, once summoned, leaves a residue behind. Fire Elements for example scourge the ground and leave a sulphurous smell in the air. A Wight… their traces will be far more obvious and far more odious."

"A few samples of those traces ought to be enough proof to start an official investigation at least, regardless of any diplomatic immunity Arantir may enjoy." Lethos said. "Even Raelag, with his deep political concerns, can't ignore that. Summoning undead within Ygg Chall is forbidden."

"The place will be guarded." Xana reminded them. Graug shrugged.

"That's expected." He remarked. "We'll want to avoid the most of them but I doubt we'll be able to sneak around them all. Undead tend to be loyal to the point of fanaticism. They'll defend Arantir's belongings even if it means their own destruction. We might have to bash a few skeletons apart."

He smiled and lifted his club mortar and tapped it across his free hand suggestively.

"And won't that be a shame?"

They agreed to meet back at the safe house the following night to begin their operation. They would tie it into a late night session of the court that was due to take place. Arantir would be obliged to attend that gathering and none of them wanted to conduct the raid while he was home.

Sareth returned to the citadel to prepare himself for that whole day. Leana had remaind there and when he got back, she was there to meet him with a stern expression on her face.

"Just what have you been up to?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Nothing." He replied far too quickly than he had intended.

"Really? Nothing? Is that why the entire city saw a man thrown from the market place after I saw you and that new dark elf friend of yours had off in that direction?"

It as then that Xana chose to interrupt that conversation. While Sareth was grateful for the intent, her method proved more inflammatory.

She manifested, revealing herself to Leana for the first time.

"Now you look here you hussy!" She told the startled sorceress. "I sure it's painful that your uncles now worm bait, but don't you take if out Sareth. His only thoughts so far have been to bring your uncle's murderer to justice so back off!"

Leana stared with wide eyes for a long moment before she said anything.

"Just… what… what are you?" She eventually managed to stammer, her hand flying up to jab a finger directly at the dark haired spirit.

Xana drifted back to Sareth and draped her arms protectively, even lovingly, around his neck.

"Oh hasn't Sareth gotten around to introducing me yet?" She asked in an innocent tone as she pressed her cheek up against his. "I'm his guardian. Bound to him for as long as he may live."

There was an angry, even jealous flash in Leana's eyes and Sareth realised with dread that he was now directly in the middle of a vicious battle.

"Sareth what is the meaning of this?" Leanna demanded, looking at him with her eyebrows arched. "Where did you get this thing?"

"Thing?" Xana repeated, letting go of the young man and floating forward to violate Leana's personal space. "THING?! THING?! Did you just call me a ..a thing?!"

"Yes I did." Leanna replied not seemingly the least bit intimidated. "Sprit? Little more than a summoned elemental."

Xana looked back at Sareth.

"Are you going to let her insult me like that?" She demanded. Before he could so much as open his mouth to make any sort of reply she about faced and began again at Leana.

"You know nothing about me you little self important mage's apprentice!"

Sareth shuddered.

"Sareth I demand to get rid of this THING, it's dangerous and shouldn't be around us." Leanna began, greatly emphasizing the word 'thing'. "Banish it back to whatever spawned it."

That did it.

Xana 's hand arched around and slapped Leana directly across the face. The sound of flesh striking flesh was loud. It wasn't a soft slap either. A great deal of power had been put into it by the way Leana staggered.

"Leanna, Xana, girls wait…" Sareth started but by then it was far too late.

"You… I'll banish you myself!" Leanna spat, raising her hands to draw runes and markings in the air with her fingers.

There was a powerful green flash that Sareth recognised from his studies as the aura that accompanied the usage of summoning magic.

Xana tilted back her head and laughed as whatever counter spell Leana tried to invoke failed.

"Oooh is the little mage finding her little spell difficult?" She asked condescendingly with a flutter of his eyes lashes. Leana snarled, waving her hands again and once more to no effect. Xana purposely increased her mocking laughter.

It was then that Sareth was grateful to be rescued when the door to their rooms opened and Raelag stepped inside. The Dark Elf lord took one look at the arguing woman, who seemed to be completely ignoring them and then gestured with a tug of his head at Sareth.

The young man eagerly followed him out the corridor as the loud voice screamed back and forth against each other.

"Well, I know better than to comment." Raelag stated with a polite cough. "But I thought I ought to come personally to tell you that I've decided to accept you as a pupil."

"Yes, Lethos told me." Sareth replied. "I appreciate it, Lord Raelag."

The Dark managed a momentary sneer and turned away.

"You have power, Sareth." He remarked and the young lad blinked. "I know you experienced it. In that tavern, what you did those assassins."

Sareth's face paled.

The memory of that despairing scream as the assassin fell to his death, rang in his head like the toll of a bell.

"How…" He found himself saying. "How did I do that?"

"I don't know." Raelag said with a straight face. Sareth glanced up sharply at him. The flat, emotionless way the dark elf had stated that rang greatly in the young man's mind.

Sareth did not believe that he was lying but some, he sensed that some element of truth was being concealed.

Raelag's expression did not alter however and Sareth had nothing upon which to press for more information.

He was still too shaken by today's drama to think too clearly about it.

"You'll have to learn how to control that power." Raelag continued with his eyes becoming thoughtful. "Especially if you want to seek refuge in MY city." Then he glanced through the door which was partly ajar. Just beyond shadows flicked back and forth as first rate cat fight continued.

A moment later there was a thunderously loud detonation as Leanna let off a spell. Smoke bellowed out from under the door.

"We'll begin lessons first thing tomorrow morning." The clan lord remarked with a raised eyebrow and turned to walk away. "I expect to see you in my main hall at first light."

"Yes sir." Sareth replied dumbly.

"Oh and Sareth…"

"Yes?"

"Do try to keep that Mage girl and your succubus under control."

It took Sareth's overtaxed brain about a full minute to fully process that statement.

"My what?" He demanded but Raelag was already gone.

* * *

--

Sleep was difficult that night. Perhaps it was nerves, stress by the recent events in his life finally taking their toll. Sareth could not be certain but whatever the reason his dreams were nightmares the likes of which had never intruded upon him before.

All was darkness around him, a terribly cold void that penetrated down to the core of his very soul.

Everything around him was blackness and his body felt utterly numb.

Then sensation came back, a flash of feeling and heat.

Fire burst forth all around him, fires raging with a sudden unbearable heat. Thrown from petrifying cold to intolerable heat all Sareth could do was endure as the nightmare took its course, bringing him deeper and deeper into that new inferno.

Images flew around him, mostly faces some familiar and others unknown. He saw Leanna, Wyngaal, Raelag, Menelag and even Lethos, their faces baring expression of near perpetual agony. At the centre of them all was Xana, standing perfectly still as she looked at Sareth and cried yet her tears were jet black.

She then stepped aside and another figure walked casually towards them. It was a dark figure, wrapped in black robes and holding a bony hand aloft. Through the flames, Sareth could make out the sinister and cold emotionless face of Arantir.

"You're going to die." The Necromancer stated in a neutral tone, jabbing a finger at him. "You're going to die a very painful death."

"Why?" Sareth found himself asking.

"You know why. Now, hold still so I can tear out your soul." Sareth tried to move back and the moment he did, Arantir disappeared as if his form had never been there.

Xana looked at him, her black tears running down her cheeks.

"My son…" A voice whispered to him out of the fire.

Whipping around Sareth came face to face with a woman. She stood there, just behind a veil of fire looking at him with bright green eyes. She was almost unearthly beautifully with short brown hair. All other features were obscured by the flames.

"Mother…" He began without realizing it, reaching out towards her with a great longing in his heart.

She reached out towards him as well, copying him almost like a mirror image and when their finger tips were about to touch her form disappeared. Replacing it was a form so horrible and terrible that Sareth could not even scream.

The flames intensified in this things presence and unable to move, Sareth stood there as a giant mailed fist closed around his arm as this giant glared down at him with glowing yellow eyes.

"My son!" The beast repeated with a triumphant shout that seemed to shatter all around them. The faces of anguish cried out in dismay and pain and disappeared, all except for Xana who stood there and from her eyes more tears like oil flowed.

The titan, indescribable and terrible, lifted Sareth by the arm high into the air and held him close to his face.

His face, that face was the worse.

"My son and my Saviour!" It declared and then let him go, allowing him to fall from that great height.

The flames disappeared as he fell and he landed in water. No… it wasn't water. Blood, a sea of flowing red blood as if it gushed from a terrible wound as if the world itself had been stabbed. Unable to swim in that horrible mess, Sareth could only sinking lower and lower, gazing up at the towering horrible giant as it held Xana aloft in one hand and stared down at him as the blood rushed over his head.

Sareth woke instantly, sitting bolt upright with a cold sweat standing out on his face and running down to soak his chest.

He was shaking uncontrollably and it took several minutes in order to breath normally. He held his trembling hands out in front of himself and watched them, waiting for them to calm enough to stop but they did not.

"Are you alright?" Looking up, he saw Leanna light a candle beside her bed and hold it aloft. Her hair hadn't been combed yet and it was ruffled badly by the pillow.

"Just… just a bad dream." He replied. He was still shaking, the memory of that horrible face stuck in his minds eye like an imprint.

He held his head to his head to wipe off the sweat. It felt as if every part of him was trembling in horror and fear. Each and every hair on its head seemed to be trembling on its own volition, shaking in response to that horrible face.

Words could not begin to describe the horror of that visage, that face on that giant.

And those eyes. Those eyes were the very worst.

They had stared right through him past any and all defences directly into his soul and it seemed as if their slightly glance could rip away his purity and sink him into an abyss so foul it was beyond imagining.

But the woman… that woman… she was just the opposite. She had been everything that demon was not, as if the two of them were opposites… yet not apart either. As if they were the different sides of the same coin.

The woman offered Love.

The demon offered Hate.

And yet there the same thing.

Sareth was more than confused. He was frightened and scared.

Something was coming. He knew that now. Something momentous and terrible and it was rushing at him and the mere thought shook him to the core.

Unable to quiet his shaking, he wrapped his arms around himself and sat there feeling his stomach churn inside him.

Doing so, he barely noticed as Leanna crossed from her own bed and silently slipped in beside him. Before he could say a word she was underneath the blankets and cuddling up to him.

As her smooth skin came into contact with his, he froze and looked down. She felt warm against him and her touch was like the comforting embrace of family and that banished away all fears and doudts.

"Its ok, Sareth, I'm here for you." She breathed as she cuddled up. Her arms wound themselves around his and she held herself to him.

"Leanna." He started. "I don't know where I'm going."

She looked up at him.

"Everything I ever knew was a lie, a warped perception of home that constructed around me. I have no past and no future."

Her answering smile was radiant.

"But you have a present." She remarked. "My uncle used to say to me, neither the past nor the future matters really. It's the present, the now, that takes precedents."

Sareth felt a guilty stab at the thought of the wizard and what the old man had sacrificed for them.

"I've made a decision." She carried on. "I'm not going back to Stonehelm."

"You're not?"

"No. I'm staying with you." Her head rested on his shoulder. "I'm already closer to you than anyone at home."

There was a sudden whooshing sound and Sareth felt a pair of arms wrap around his free arm on his right. Sure enough, Xana was there, zealously hanging onto Sareth with a jealousy expression written clear on her face.

"You're not the only one." She said coldly and Leanna's own expression turned instantly hostile.

"What? I knew him longer than you did." Xana continued.

"You're a spirit. I'm a real person."

"What difference does that make?"

The young mage looked at Xana with anger blaring in her eyes for a moment, as if she were about to launch into another fully fledged sparing cat fight and Sareth winced as he was directly in the middle of it.

Then, Leanna relaxed her muscles and looked away sharply.

"He's…" She began after a pregnant silence. "He's precious to both of us."

Xana blinked, clear surprise written in her features at what could only be tremendous compromise.

The sudden shout from outside broke that awkward moment and near instantly came more cries of alarm.

"Look out!!" Someone cried from somewhere and then, the room around the three of them trembled and shock as if gripped in an earthquake. Fragments of dust began to fall from sudden cracks in the ceiling as parts of it began to rupture.

Acting on gut instinct, Sareth rolled out of the bed and ran to the window that looked out across the front of Raelag's palace.

It was pitch black in the caverns but he could see what the matter was instantly.

On the cavern floor before the palace's main walls was an army. It was a huge mass of infantry and archers, arranged in a siege position around the main gates and trebuchet like weaponry were being brought up from behind.

"Sareth, what's happening?" Leanna asked, half stumbling out of the bed quickly followed by Xana.

"The city's under attack!" He snarled, doubling back and racing past them for the poor.

Flinging it open, he nearly ran into a squad of Dark Elven soldiers as they soared past the door with their swords drawn at the ready. The palace was awash with confusion and loud noise.

Coming to the edge of a balcony, Sareth felt the ground beneath him shudder again and this time he could see why.

The siege engines of the invading army were casting large chucks of stone over the walls of the palace to strike at the city itself.

"Why didn't my secret service tell me about this? It's their job to inform me about threats!" At the sound of that voice, Sareth glanced around and spotted Clan lord Raelag in full armour standing nearby with several Dark Elves who could only be his military generals.

"The enemy have many Shadow Matriarchs, my lord." One of them was saying. "They concealed their movements from…"

"I don't want your excuses now!" Raelag snapped back in his face. "Call for the Black Dragons and the Minotaur elite guard!"

"Rarelg, what's going on, who are they?"

Raelag swung around to face him.

"Soulscar!" He cried with intense venom. "Treacherous resurgent bastards!" His expression them became one of self loathing. "I had the opportunity to exterminate the entire clan but I hesitated." With a loud steely hiss he drew his sword from its scabbard. "I'll not make the same mistake this time!"

Soulscar…Thralsai, the dark elf who had pursued them in the flight from Phenrig. That was his clan.

"Can they get in?" He asked.

Raelag sneered contemptuously.

"My walls will not fall to the likes of…" Before he could even finish his sentence, the ground shock again, only this time it wasn't from siege weaponry. A thunderously loud bellowing noise accompanied it.

Then again.

And again.

Each time the noise grew louder and louder until shrieks came forth.

"They didn't…" Raelag breathed, his eyes going wide. "Not even the SoulScar could be that stupid…"

The army before the walls parted to allow passage for something of tremendous size, lumbering out of the dark towards the palace walls.

A giant beast, shaking the ground with its footsteps, the majority of its body obscured by dust and chaos of the battle.

The creature reared up, a massive body covered in thick orange scales each the width of a man in size. Its goliath front paws slammed down on the battlements of the palace, smashing the defences which were pitiful in comparison. As the walls of the palace crumbled, smashed down to the ground, dust shot up high into the air and illuminated the silhouette of the creature.

It was a true monster, a creature that was nearly half the height of the palace itself. The body was thunderously large with thick legs larger than the tallest trees and wider by far. It was covered in scales and a long reptilian tail swept out behind it, lashing like a whip across anything it failed to trample in his wake.

As Sareth gazed up, he beheld its horrific top. Upon the shoulders of its front legs was not one neck, not two, but five.

Five heads, all heavily armoured, stood out high above. They had small eyes and wide beaked mouths, their jaws held tightly shut by thick muzzles made of the toughest leather and metal.

A dark elf stood atop the central head. In one hand he held the reins of the muzzle, directly the beast where it was ordered to go. In the other hand, he held a banner aloft. Upon this banner was the jagged mark of the SoulScar clan.

Raelag snarled. "A Foul Hydra!"


	11. Part 2, chapter 10

(short chapter. Sorry. There will be more with the next one)

The Foul Hydra was a beast of the deep places. Normally Hydras's where not this large but this breed had been cultivated for the soul purpose of war. Their bodies were armour plated, their crested jagged with spikes and their fangs dripped deadly venom. The defenders manning the walls of Raelag's citadel had just enough time to leap out of the way before their emplacements were trampled underfoot.

Urged on by the Dark Elf riding its main head, the beast trembled the walls like a rampaging wildebeest and the attacking army let out a resonating cheer that echoed through the cavern.

Raelag began swearing in a dozen different languages that Sareth had never heard before.

"The use of Foul Hydra's in warfare is outlawed throughout all the Dark Elven kingdoms." He remarked as the dust from the crumbled walls rose high and the beast marched through to begin an assault on the citadel itself. "When news of this spreads through Ygg-Chall, ever other clan will rise up to crush them."

In spite of his words he did not appear all that optimistic. He glared around at Sareth then around at the battlements around him as the Hydra roared again.

"Up there!" The clan chief stated, pointing up. Sareth followed his gaze and saw that directly above them, on a higher set of battlements was a ballista, mounted onto the edge of a turret that jutted out from the parapet. "Get up there and man that engine. We have to kill that monster before it destroys my entire defensive line."

Sareth blanched.

"But… but I'm…" He began with wide eyes and wavering lips.

"This is war Sareth, you've no time to be a child now!" Raelag barked. "Get up there and man that weapon."

"But… can't you do it?"

"I have to lead my reserves in battle if we're to keep that army from following the Hydra through into the city. I don't have anyone else to spare." The Dark Elf clasped Sareth hard on the shoulder with a metal gauntlet. "Grow up, Sareth. It's time to prove yourself in battle!"

Then the clan chief turned and ran, heading towards a flight of steps that led further down towards the Citadel gates which had not yet fallen.

"Sareth, you heard him." Xana's voice almost yelled into his unsuspecting head a moment later. "Hurry! Before we are overrun!"

The young man remained stationary for just a moment longer. This was not the first combat situation he was in… but it was the first where he would take a direct hand in the fighting without aid.

His thoughts flashed back to Menelag, the old wizard, alongside whom he had fought off the Ghouls and the Wight with.

He had been brave then of course… but this hydra… its enormity and sheer power made him cringe.

Sareth was afraid. He could not deny that.

Yet still, he managed to put one foot in front of the other as he made for the stairs leading up to the Ballista.

Racing up a narrow corridor, Sareth stumbled once as the Hydra began pounding at the rock of the main citadel with its front legs as if trying to kick the whole thing over. Righting himself, he charged up the rest of the stairs before emerging out onto the short stone bridge that lead to the turret.

From here, he could see the devastation that the Foul Hydra was leaving in its wake. The Soul Scar army before the city itself was beginning its march, preparing to follow the Hydra through the hole in the defensive walls.

Sareth made a dash for the Ballista. As he was half way across to the turret when the Hydra about faced, moving faster than its bulk suggested and slammed its enormous tail into the Fortress. The shockwave that passed through the ground was enough to knock the feet out from under him.

Falling, he hid his head on the stone and fell, over the edge and would have fallen to his boom had Xana not manifest beside him.

Her hands grabbed his and held him, preventing him from falling as she tried to pull him back up.

"Hold on!" She grunted, pulling him up, displaying greater strength than her smaller body should have. Sareth took a hold of the edge when his free hand was within range and hauled himself up.

It took a great deal of effort to pull his weight off of that drop to oblivion but somehow he managed it. But he didn't rest. Instantly he was on his feet, scrambling for the ballista as fast as the narrow ledge would allow.

The ballista was not a complicated mechanism. By the use of gears and ropes, it could fire a spear the size of as fully grown man a great distance especially from this vantage point and the spears that it was loaded with where special as well.

The tips were not jagged metal but rather earth ware jugs, containing a strange brew that smelt like sulphur. An oily rage was attached to the end alongside it and instantly Sareth understood its use.

He cupped his hands and with a single incantation called forth a fireballs spell. He did not let it fire but rather he used its embers to set this rage ablaze and as soon as it was sparking, he bolted for the levers that controlled the siege weapon.

With Xana's help he tugged on the ropes that directed it and the massive weapon began to rotate, but not fast enough and the Hydra was causing a great deal of damage down there.

Then, without expecting it, the two of them felt another pair of hands on the rope aiding them.

"Wha..?" Sareth asked, glancing back to find that helping them was Leanna, hastily dressed in her mages outfit and armed at her side with a sword She smiled at them and tugged at the rope.

"Oh little miss pretty getting her hands dirty!" Xana remarked with a large smirk.

"Not now!" Sareth told her and pulled hard on the rope again. The three of them pulled hard together and with a loud groaning, the ballista rotated until its firing end was pointed directly at the Hydra.

"Alright, I'll aim you pull the triggering mechanism!" The young man told them, hastily climbing up into the leather seat with the wooden levers that controlled the bow itself were. With these he manoeuvred the frame on which the weapon was mounted, directing it as best he could without experience until he lined up one of the creature's massive heads.

Leanna and Xana stod at the ready by the firing leavers and then, when the Hydra reared up to screech again, it put itself directly in the line of fire.

"Now!" Sareth shouted and the two girls pulled the trigger. The tightly wound ropes inside the ballista mechanism burst forth after being released and the spear shot forth.

It soared through the air, whistling as it went the flaming rag on its tip left a trail of sparks.

Then the spear collided with one of the Hydra's heads. The spear itself was not large enough to cause the beast that much concern but when the jug on its tip burst, it sprayed its contents all over its skin. Then the rag set it all ablaze and instantly that massive head was engulfed in fire.

Its scream of pain, from five mouths, was deafening. It staged back, nearly tumbling over its own massive feet as all of its necks arched in pain and the wounded head hung low, desperately trying to put the fire out.

"Quickly, fire another one!!" Xana cried out, impressed by the effect the ballista had had.

The siege weapon however did not reload that quickly. Another spear had to be lifted into the mechanism itself and then lit which Sareth let to as quickly as he could while Leanna manipulated the leavers that rewound the bowstring.

The Hydra was not prepared to wait for them to fire again.

Its rider, enraged that such a blow had been dealt to his beast, directed the main head towards the turret where the three of them worked frantically to reload. The hydra needed little prompting and with a roar of outrage, it scrambled towards the high parapet.

"I think we'll only have time for one more shot." Leanna shouted up, judging the distance between them and the Hydra.

"Then it'll have to count." Sareth remarked. There was a loud click of metal against metal and the thump of wood on wood as the new spear was slotted into space.

Again the young man took aim, keeping his grip on the levels so tight his knuckles turned white.

The Hydra was rearing itself up as it crossed the ground, preparing to lash at them when it got within distance, its steps shaking the ground more and more as it got closer.

Sareth pulled the trigger again and the ballista responded with a loud 'twang' as the second spear fired.

With the Hydra charging, this time there was no missing it. As the giant reptilian monster began to pass beyond their line of sight to the base of their turret, the spear's tip burst forth with naphtha and fire across one of one of the large shoulders, the spear itself sinking through the scales and into the muscle.

The beast roared in pain, its three moving heads swaying back and forth as it spewed its venom in all directions.

Wait… Sareth paused. The hydra was supposed to have five heads… he could see three moving, and the one he had injured hanging back to try and recover. So where was the fifth head?

With a loud screech, that missing head rose up directly in front of them, having skimmed up the wall of the turret to tower over them with its massive jaws arched open.

Acting on pure instinct alone, Sareth dove from the seat of the Ballista and in the same fluid motion, he grabbed both Xana and Leanna and threw them out of the way as the Hydra's mouth slammed down on the ballista and it burst apart in a spray of wood and metal.

Sareth cried out as a few of the flying fragments impacted into his exposed back, some of them sinking in deep. The pain flooded from him as the blood began to seep down to stain his torn clothes.

The sheer weight of the Hydra's head with the force of its bite caused the turret to crumble, the stone cracking apart until it flew off to fall down towards the cavern floor.

The pain overwhelming his senses, Sareth staggered forward as the stone catwalk beneath him began to crumble.

"Sareth!" He heard someone cry out and it sounded like Xana.

Slowly, the Youngman reached around and ran his hand over his back. He brought it forward and stared in silence at the blood that was thick on his fingers.

Slowly at first but then quite quickly, Sareth could see his senses being heightened.

As before in the confrontation with the dark elf Vayshan, the ringing in his ears override his ability for caution and filled him with what could only be described as an explosion of anger.

He thrust away the hands trying to help him and turned back to face his enemy, ignoring the pain in his back and the dripping blood running down onto the ground. The Hydra had demolished the Ballista and the turret upon which it stood and its massive head was turning about to face him, its small eyes leering forward as its jaws parted, the stench of its breath unbearable. 

The pain sent everything into a mysterious and bloody frenzy and it was as if Sareth's entire personality, his fears and anxieties all turned to misty vapour to be tossed upon the winds.

The smell of blood was in his nostrils and it was enough to fire his primal senses to where he was gripped by some instinct that had lain dormant.

"Sareth, what are you…" Xana began but before she could finish, the Hydra lunged forward, its mouth gapping wide.

Sareth didn't move. He stood there, waiting for the oncoming crash. Then, displaying skill that had eluded him before he somersaulted backwards and in that same motion hauled the two girls out of harms way back to the general safety of the fortress. Then, he took off, racing down the steps.

Hissing, the massive head turned to follow him, watching as Sareth ran alone down through the stone archways.

Maddened and enraged by the blows and scolding's it had suffered, the giant beast followed him, intent on having its revenge.

It moved, keeping up with him as its many heads swayed back and forth almost fighting each other to have a first shot at their victim. The Dark elf onto of the main head did not seem pleased that his monster was distracted and was whipping it furiously, trying to make it turn its attention back to demolishing the city defences so the SoulScar army could invade.

It ignored him and slammed one of his heads down through the wall of the fortress, missing Sareth by just a few meters. The young man kept running, drawing the beast's attention.

It slammed head after head after Sareth, breaking through ways and smashing open buildings in an attempt to crush him.

The smell of death was every in this city but in his heightened state, Sareth did not care… in fact, the stench of the dead actually excited him.

The side of him that was normally in charge found that repulsive and could not understand how death and the spell of blood could possibly be so provocative, yet that part of him was less than asleep and now the 'other him' was wide awake.

Bursting out onto the edge of a parapet, Sareth could see from here that the invading army was almost to the giant hole in the defensive walls and that the archers from the battlements weren't doing enough damage to stop them. Raelag's main force could not go out to engage with that Hydra still there.

A hiss from above alerted him and glancing up, he saw that high above him, staring down at him through a gap between two buildings was one of the Hydra's heads. It drew back its lips and snarled, then thrust its mouth forward in an attempt to bite off the entire parapet with Sareth.

The young man bolted to the side just in time and the monster bit down into stone.

But before it could raise its head out again, Sareth leapt forward and grabbed a hold of the beast by the edges of its armour plating. As it rose back up, Sareth was carried along with it, higher and higher as the neck craned upward.

A massive eye rotated around and then down, to stare directly at him as he clung to the side of the scaly face.

Pulling himself up, Sareth climbed quickly out of reach as the mouth beneath him opened and a thick wet tongue slathered out like a snake in an attempt to grab him. He kicked the wet muscle away as it tried to wrap itself around his foot, climbing up the scales until he managed to hoist himself over the edge of the Hydra's nose.

It was there that he stopped, pausing only for a moment, just long enough to wrench one of the large pieces of wood out from his back and the pain…

The pain opened up a whole new world to him.

Through that pain, through its banishment of his human frailties, he was in someway… made pure.

Blood dripping from his back, he turned to look up at the main head of the beast, towering above him and the barley distinguishable rider, the dark elf at the reins.

He had no weapons.

He had no armour.

But he did not need them.

He cupped his blood stained hands and then with barely a whisper of an incantation, thrust them forward, calling forth a burst of concentrated lightning. It crackled through the air until smashing with a thunderous clap into the exposed eye of the Hydra.

The eyeball almost seemed to boil in the socket and the beast screeched in utter pain, its head arching back with its mouth wide open.

The Foul Hydra staggered back from the fortress, backing up almost directly into the path of the charging army, which at the sight of the giant reptile faulted in their attack.

Even while the beast was still raging, Sareth leapt from the head on which he stood towards the neck before it. Clasping onto the neck of the main, now injured head, he hang there halfway up from the shoulders as the reptile staggered about the cavern in pain.

The pain, the adrenaline and the sheer thrill… it all conspired in this mind and left him seeing the world through something of a red haze, as if everything was tainted with blood.

Inch by inch, he began to climb again, pulling his way up the tall neck. His arms didn't seem to tire and his muscles, which by all logic should have given out long ago, seemed only to grow stronger as he went.

Reaching the back of the Hydra's skull, the ridges there provided ample footing for him to pull his way upon onto the top of the head to face the beast's rider.

The harness and reins used to steer the Hydra were complex and quite cruel.

Levels and pulleys where spread everything in a complex almost clockwork like mechanism, the ropes intertwined with spread out over the scales like a web. Attached to the end of these ropes were hooks, hooks that where set beneath the scales on nerve endings so that the rider could inflict sever amounts of pain on the creature if it did not do what he wanted it to.

For a moment, the part of Sareth's mind that was asleep, felt a deep surge of pity for this creature.

That moment past however when he saw who was directing it.

As he had seen before, it was a dark elf, clad in ebony coloured battle armour but with a gauntlet and pauldron on his right side that was blood red. His skin was almost snow white and his features angular and hawk like. His raven black hair was long and tied back into a flowing pony tail and his eyes were blue and as harsh as a winter's night.

Sareth had seen him before.

This was the dark elf who had pursued him along with Phenrig during their mad and terror filled escape from the cultists.

This was Thralsai.

Realizing that he was no longer alone, the dark elf swung around to face the young man with a curved blade in one hand. The reaction had been instinctive and the sword had almost pierced Sareth's heart before it stopped.

"You?!" The dark elf proclaimed with wide eyes. "How on Ashan did you…"

His expression of shock then quickly softened into a smirk of intense and evil delight, his lips spreading in a wide grin.

The heat and pain in Sareth;s body were an intoxicating brew, driving forth a rage he had never known to lie within him and without even thinking about it he lashed forward with his arms spread out wide.

His motion was a savage animal like motion fuelled by adrenaline and blood lust.

Not expecting the lunge from a being smaller than himself, Thralsai let go of the Hydra's reins and grabbed at the young man's wrist to hold them back.

"I am not your enemy, boy!" He spat through clenched teeth. "Do not force me to strike my master's champion."

Sareth hardly heard him, his gaze fixed on the dark elfs throat and the through of breaking it with his own hands.

Snarling, Thralsai raised a free hand and dealt a powerful blow to the back of Sareth's head.

His strength was surprising and Sareth felt himself go numb, his vision clouding. He collapsed to the top of the Hydra's head with a loud crash.

Thralsai bared his teeth and spat.

"Bah…weakling."

He turned and took up the reins again.

"Nothing more than a human whelp. I care not whose son you are, you are not my messiah."

The bloodlust inside of Sareth did not dissipate. He found himself, for some reason that logic could not explain, enraged by Thralsai's words.

How dare he…

How dare he question him?

How dare he question his birthright!!

Slowly he began to rise to his feet, inch by agonising inch with the blood and the sweat dripping off of him.

"I…" He began and the dark elf swung around.

"Am…" Thralsai simply scowled and drew his sword. He thrust his weapon forward, attempting to wound the young man in the arm, but Sareth reversed it on him, grasping the dark elves' wrist in a grip in iron.

His eyes widened and they became blood red, the iris jet black.

"I am the blood!"

He slashed his left arm forward and as he moved, the tips of his fingers turned black and grew into claws.

The slash racked Thralsai across the chest, cutting through his armour to slice into blood and flesh. The dark elf tried to get back, clutching at his chest in pain and surprise.

"It is you who are not worthy of me!" Sareth declared and then he struck the Dark Elf, lashing out with a kick.

The blow was far stronger than it should have been and it sent Thralsai flying, tumbling off of the edge of the Hydra's head.

He screamed as he fell, falling down and down until he landed on another head further down and impaled himself, landing directly on the pointed crest. It sank into his back and then burst out through his chest, spraying fragments of ribs and organs out in a powerful spray.

Thralsai gagged only once before the life was torn out of him and he lay there, tossed back and forth like a rag doll by the Hydra.

Sareth stared after him and he stood there, simply looking at the body with a detachment.

This other persona…the other Sareth… knew that it had killed someone but it simply didn't care.

That frightening thought was what broke Sareth and when he did, the other him vanishing and his true personality broke forth.

"By Asha, what have I done?!" he asked but that was all he managed to get out before he fell to his knees, unable to stand the pain. He emptied his stomach right there, directly on top of the Hydra's nose.

The reptilian beast let out a loud screech. Its sense of smell was acute and it could not stand the foul smell so close to its nostrils.

Glancing up weekly, Sareth saw that the SoulScar army was nearly at the walls of Raelag's city and were attempting to march right through the giant hole made by the Hydra.

His need to act overcoming his sensitivities, he managed to get to his feet. Eagerly he grasped the reins that drove the beast and manipulating them as best he could, he urged the Hydra to about face.

It took some persuasion but eventually the reptilian beast obeyed and turned to face the invading army.

That had been the difficult part. It was easy to make a beast of war, particularly one this large, charge forward.

If any of the SoulScar troops realised what was happening it was too late for them to do anything about it.

With a thunderous roar, the Hydra abandoned its seigh of the fortress and stampeded straight towards the invaders.

Its giant feet ran roughshod over them, trampling entire regiments underfoot.

The SoulScar could not face down their own weapon and so chaos set in and they broke rank.

The Shadowbrand defenders let out a load cheer and then, with the SoulScar running, Raelag ordered the doors to the fortress opened and the massive horde that was the Minotaur elite guard came out to chase their enemy.


	12. Part 3, chapter 11

Part 3

(Tongue of Flame)

Chapter 11

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It was late in the evening and hours had past since the siege had been routed.

Raelag marched into the tent, barging past the sentry that had stood guard outside. Without a word to his clansmen inside he walked up to they table upon which the still body of his enemy, Thralsai of the SoulScar clan.

Raelag looked down at the grey body, the wound which had claimed in life still visible through his stomach.

"So he is dead then." He muttered and then added; "Good!"

The Soulscar army had not lasted long after their Hydra had been turned against them. Clearly their morale had relied on their giant beast and once they had lost it they had been revealed for the cowardly opportunists they all were. Their retreat had been blocked off by the lizard cavalry of the Dark Raiders who had swung around wide to prevent them from escaping through the cavern they had used to attack.

Once they were pinned in one place, Raelag had ordered the advance of the Minotaur elite guard.

Minotaurs were the slaves of the Dark Elf people but many of these beasts had been trained for battle and armed with mighty axes and armour. For such feral creatures they fought with tremendous discipline, remaining in ranks as they advanced, cutting down the SoulScar army row by row until the attacking force had been completely destroyed and the siege of Virbeth had been routed.

News of these events was quickly disturbed by runners to the other cities of Clan Shadowbrand and to other, allied clans. The SoulScar had crossed the line, violating the laws of Ygg-Chall and the peace treaty that had been written after Queen Isabel's war.

Raelag was not a forgiving person. He had granted the SoulScar amnesty after the war, allowing them to rebuild their cities so long as they remembered their place. This attack threw such forgiveness out the window.

This time, when he raised war against them, Raelag would not leave a single one of them alive.

Outside the city itself, tents had been pitched so that healers could properly tent to the wounded and help clear the battlefield of the dead before they began to rot. Underground there were few places the stick from decomposition could dissipate.

"We'll need additional troops to reinforce the city barracks." He told his commanders after leaving the tent. "I want forces along the Grimheim border to withdraw and convene here immediately."

"But… but my lord… that would leave us vulnerable in the north. We can not, in our present state, risk leaving ourselves open to an attack by the Dwarves."

Raelag shrugged as if it wasn't that much of a concern.

"If King Tolghar wants to nibble off little bits of our territory while our backs are turned then that's fine. Once we clean house here we'll just go right back and 'retrieve' it from him." He managed a wry expression. "Are you suggesting that our forces aren't any match for the dwarves, commander?"

The dark elf, realizing that he had put his foot in his mouth, began to splutter.

"No… of course not my lord." He replied quite quickly.

That was that. The Orders were given. The Dwarven frontline generals, Agbeth and Ranleth were to return to the homeland of Ygg-Chall with their forces immediately. All knew this would not sit well with them for their fierce hatred for Dwarves were almost legend. Raelag was unrepentive however and cared little if the generals liked his decisions or not, so long as they obeyed orders.

Sareth winced one final time as Leanna finished stictching up the last of the wounds on his back. The shards of wood and metal had not penetrated deep enough to cause serious injury, although he had lost quite a bit of blood and he had needed more than half a dozen sutures before his self appointed healers were finished.

"There." Leanna remarked, tying off the end of the switch that was to keep the largest of the wounds from reopening. "All things considered, you got off lightly."

He wasn't listening.

His thoughts were fixed on that dreadful moment when, filled with an intense and unexplainable bloodlust, he had kicked Thralsai off the top of the Hydra and to his death.

It had been a moment of utter savagery, a horrible almost irredeemable act to commit.

And yet he could not deny that he had enjoyed it. He had actually enjoyed watching Thralsai plunge down until he impaled himself on the Hydra's spiky crest. Sareth had been actually happy to see the blood burst from his chest upon impact.

While an argument could be made that it was something that happened in the heat of the moment, Sareth found that he could not bring himself to feel remorse.

He had killed Thralsai… and while he resented himself for being capable of act, he found that the deed itself did not bother him.

That was that had kept him awake all through the minor surgery to remove the shards in his body, despite the drugs and salves they had used to numb the area and attempt to put him to sleep.

And then, even after that, he had used the Hydra to stampede over the attacking SoulScar.

How many Dark Elves had he killed then? They didn't bother him either. He hadn't even seen their faces yet he had run roughshod over them like ants.

This is a war, he told himself over and over again, people die in war.

The thought did not help him much and he found himself growing more and more disturbed by what he was apparently capable of.

Xana clicked her fingers in front of his face, causing him to blink.

"No day dreaming." She told him with an almost stern expression, although her eyes had a mischievous twinkle to them. "So all done?" She asked, looking aside to Leanna.

"All stitched up." The Mage girl replied, patting Sareth's back affectionately. "Try not to move around that much, Sareth, give those wounds a chance to heal."

She smile turned into a little frown.

"Although you're going to be left with some ugly scars I'm afraid."

Sareth let out a pent up breath through his nose.

"I can live with scars." He remarked.

Leanna and Xana were not exactly friends now. Their obviously mutual affection for Sareth kept them at odds and their other differences kept them from connecting that much.

Still, they had cooperated together in assisting Sareth with the ballista and that had knocked down one or two walls between them. That put them on speaking terms but not much else.

"Ah, Sareth… the conquering hero."

Sareth looked up at the sound of the voice. Standing in the gap of the tent mouth was Lethos. The dark elf assassin bowed extravagantly to him with a graceful arch of one arm.

"I understand I am to offer congratulations." He added, looking up with a broad almost cheeky grin. "Not many warriors can claim to capture a Foul Hydra while killing the General of a besieging army." He straightened and clap enthusiastically. "Let the bards begin singing your name, my brother!"

He cleared his throat and began to actually sing, his fingers tracing the strings of an imaginary lute.

"He came to us from the world of light,

A hero for our time of plight;

Unarmed he scaled the Hydra's neck

To place upon the villain a fatal check."

"Are you done?" Sareth asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh I'm never done." Lethos retorted, dropping out of prose with an even broader smile. "If I can't make a quip at a friend then I've lost my edge."

His light hearted easy manner actually succeeded in making Sareth smile. The dark elf's eyes were drawn to Leanna all of a sudden.

"Oh…" He began. "And who is this lovely flower?" He asked. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure m'lady."

He dropped down to one knee and taking her hand in his, kissed it formally.

"Allow me to introduce myself. Lethos, Stalker of the Assassin's guild."

Leanna looked a bit perplexed at this behaviour but had a faint tinged blush on her cheeks.

"The… the honour is mine, good sir." She told him, not quite sure of what to say. She introduced herself and stumbled over it, clearly a little put off by Lethos' boyish attitude which was uncharacteristic of his race.

Xana made no attempt to stifle her giggling.

"Well my brother, you certainly surround yourself with beautiful women." Lethos began again to Sareth. "A hero and a ladies man. Ah you will be the envy of all of Ygg-Chall is not all of Ashan." He laughed, ignoring the embarrassed look on Sareth's face. "Ah but let us be serious for a moment. Our patron lord has called for a council in the wake of the siege on the city."

"A council?" Sareth repeated.

Lethos nodded.

"Yes, nobles, generals, leaders of the guard… all must report to the main hall of the citadel. Lord Raelag wishes to say a few words, and to dispense instructions. I've been told that he wants us to attend."

"Us?"

" 'Us' as in those cleared for tutelage in the arts of dark magic." Lethos explained. "I do believe, dear brother; that we going to be drafted."

"What?!" Sareth stood up too quickly and winced at the pain in his back as the stitched strained to hold the wounds together.

Lethos held up both hands.

"I can go only by rumour." He asserted. "Raelag has been talking with his generals most of this morning so I can not pretend to know his mind, but given the state of emergency he may deem that more trained defenders are needed to defend the city."

Sareth looked dismayed.

"I just wanted to learn the magic, not use it to help fight a war!"

Lethos levelled a gaze at him.

"Well you were doing pretty well in a war early this morning I heard." He commented. "But right now we have something of an opportunity…"

"What do you mean?"

"When I say all the important people will be at this council meeting, I include visiting dignitaries in that." The dark elf levelled a gaze at him and that boyish façade was now subdued. "Dignitaries that like to tinker in 'dead' things, for example."

Arantir.

The Necromancer.

The one Sareth suspected of being responsible for the Wight that had caused the death of Leanna's uncle, Menelag. He looked back at Leanna. She had doted on her uncle, loved him more than any other relative. He had been like a father to her and then he had been taken from her.

Areth had vowed, both to her and to himself, that he would bring whoever had been responsible to justice.

But now, in light of what had happened during the battle, the question was raised; did had desire justice or vengeance?

Was there a difference? The new question bubbled in reply from some deep part of his mind.

"We can post pone our arrangement if you like." Lethos offered. "But this is certainly a good opportunity if ever I saw one."

Sareth nodded once in agreement and grabbed a shirt to cover his new scars.

"But let us talk of this when perhaps we have more details to go on." The dark elf continued. "Right now, our patron summons us." She side stepped and raised the curtain of the tent with one hand. "Let us not keep him waiting, dear brother."

The city of Virbeth had escaped mostly unmolested by the siege. Only the citadel itself had been damaged, most of which was caused by the rampaging Hydra.

The breeding of Foul Hydra's was illegal so as soon as Sareth had handed over the reins of the creature, it was put to death.

The carcass of the beast lay on the cavern ground nearby. Its heads had been severed and a small army of Minotaur slaves and dark elf labourers were busy picking it apart, disputing the bones to merchants and the substantial meat to those in need of food.

It was ruthlessly efficient but it was effective.

Stonemasons and blacksmiths were busy too, forging new weapons out in the open for the garrison and barracks that were going into recruitment overdrive to the point of press ganging. Large wooden scaffolding shot up and down the palace so that workers could attend to the damaged areas and affect repairs.

Minotaur guards had replaced Dark Elves who had fallen in battle. Like the slaves, these Minotaur's were still chained and muzzled but they were bulkier and stronger, armed with a pair of axes which they held with ease despite the heavy chains on their wrists.

Quite a few people had been called to this meeting. Dark elves, mostly of noble birth, were walking in through the large front entrance. Sareth felt more than a little out of place here, a feel he had had since coming to Ygg-Chall although that feeling was intensified greatly now.

Leanna hissed and turning around to follow her gaze, Sareth watched as the crowd began to part. The scared faces on the dark elves showed that something was coming that they did not want to get in the way of.

Pushing through was a small procession of people, most of them clad in jet black armour plating and even black chain mail. They marched protectively around a single figure Sareth had seen before.

It was Arantir himself. The Necromancer marched with his armed guards confidently up towards the fortress as if he were oblivious to the startled glares all around him.

"Observe, brother." Lethos began in a whisper. "The Necromancer takes at least ten of his Black Guards with him."

"Which means his manor house will be scantly guarded." Sareth continued in the same low tone. Lethos smiled and patted the Youngman on the back.

Coming through the large stone gates to the interior of the main hall, light by braziers in each corner, Sareth spotted Raelag who was standing up upon a central dais where he was talking to a few other dark elves in armour. Ylaya in her scanty black attire stood nearby as well, always ready to defend her lord now more than ever.

Arantir and his armed men went up to the front to stand with the nobles and other people of importance, although those same people kept a safe distance from the necromancer all the same.

Lethos directed the four of them to a secluded spot on the sidelines where they could watch the proceedings without being noticed.

Raelag finally finished his business with the armoured dark elves, who Sareth assumed where his generals, and then turned to face the crowd. He raised his arms, a gesture for silence.

It took a moment but eventually the bubble of conversation died down.

"Friends and allies." Raelag began. "We stand here today, alive and undefeated!"

The dark elves in the crowd roared in exultation and everyone else simply clapped.

"The dregs of the SoulScar had been driven back." Raelag continued. "And they have paid dearly for this affront to us. They will pay dearly for their crimes this time. We offered them forgiveness and they spat in our faces, tell me my kindred shall this stand? No I say. I promise you that they will pay for the dead brothers and sisters we were forced to put to rest this day."

Sareth could also sense the boiling resentment in the room. Many here had indeed been forced to loose someone dear to them in the attack and their desire for retribution was strong indeed.

"And so I call upon you, vengeful families and injured men, to contribute to the cause of justice upon these murderers."

The recruiting drive was clearly effective as Sareth could see in the faces of a few dark elves around him. Raelag was a skilled manipulator if he so chose and the young man was not entire sure how he should feel about the clan lord using the natural anger of grieving relatives for a military service pitch.

"But first." The Clanlord carried on. "We must honour those who fought today, who defended us and gave their lives. We will remember them and honour them." He gestured down towards a dark elf who had a scroll of paper and quill at the ready, who stood at the front of the dais. "Once my address is complete, I would compel you to come forth and list your known relatives who have died in this attack."

He let the crowd murmur for a moment before he continued.

"The dead will be honour but this is one among the living to whom we owe much, a survivor who battled courageous and turned the tide of the battle in our favour."

As Raelag turned to face him, Sareth felt a stone drop in his stomach.

"Sareth, a lone human hardly older than a boy, a stranger in our land came to our defence."

The crowd turned to look directly at him and it was about then that the young man discovered that he found being in the spotlight uncomfortable.

"Sareth…" Raelag began and his tone was strangely soft. "Come forth."

Not entirely sure why he was obeying, Sareth walked forward through the parting crowd up towards the dais.

Lethos and the two girls exchanged confused glances. The dark elf assassin was no more in the loop about this than they were.

As Sareth ascended the dais, Raelag stood aside so that the crowd could see him.

"This young man is to be rewarded for his heroism." The clan lord announced and then turned back to Sareth, laying both hands on his shoulders. "Do not be scared of what you see." He remarked cryptically.

As Sareth raised an eyebrow, Raelag gestured towards the wall at the far end of the chamber.

Looking at it now, Sareth could see that it was not a wall but rather a massive iron door with huge rusty hinges. A woman's face was painstakingly carved into it, the same face as on the statue that stood outside the citadel.

There was a moment of silence and slowly the door began to swung out and open.

The crowd gasped at the sight and Lethos stood there watching the door slowly open with wide, alarmed eyes.

Raelag got down onto one knee towards the opening door and after him, all over dark elves in the room began to bow as well. Arantir and those not of Ygg-Chall in the chamber kept their erect posture.

Sareth just watched as a strange violet light began to pulse out from behind that door and suddenly, he felt a presence.

It was a power sense of presence, a feeling impossible to ignore the feeling that something larger and far more powerful than oneself was there.

When the door was all the way open, Sareth beheld a large crystal that ran vertically from the ceiling to the floor, glowing with an intense purple light.

"Where is the one who comes to the defence of my children?" A whispery voice asked out of the depths of the crystal it seemed. Despite that quite tone the voice's effect was almost like a blow for it came from the mouth of something…divine.

"He is here, Great mother of darkness." Raelag announced without looking up. "We pray thee, bestow your blessings upon this human, this young man by the name of Sareth."

There was a long moment of silence.

Then Sareth's throat seemed to almost chock itself when he saw that something was coming out of the crystal. The light parted as if a curtain and… something emerged.

The body was sleek and reptilian and the scales black to grey, the tail whipping out behind it. Its spine had a ride that ran from tail tip to the top of the edge and it was jagged and covered in spikes. Its neck was relatively short for the body and the head was small but the mouth was large. The eyes were glowing an intense yellow and seemed to burn almost like two small fires. The wings on either side were folded by clearly when stretched they would provide the beast with tremendous lift.

Sareth knew what a dragon looked like but this was far more than just a dragon.

The presence he felt, the raw power coming from this tremendously large creature that only just managed to fit in the room was that of a god.

"Malassa." He found himself saying out load.

This was no mere Dragon.

This was Malassa, dragon of darkness, goddess over the Dark Elves.

"You do not bow." The goddess remarked, floating up to the dais and towering over it. The reptilian lips did not move as she spoke.

"No." Sareth said although he found his responses were automatic. "I don't."

"Why not?"

"Because you are not my god."

"Do you have a god?"

"No."

"Then to whom do you bow?"

"No one."

The fiery eyes in the goddess' face actually appeared amused.

"Yet you come to the defence of my children. Why? What do you, an atheist; owe those who worship any of the gods whom you reject."

Sareth had never considered this before but he supposed, confronted with it now, that he was an atheist. He worshipped no god, dragon or otherwise and felt absolutely fine despite religious dogma that he should not.

"Because I have made friends with those who live here." He explained. "They offered me protection and shelter and so… I fought to protect them for their generosity."

Malassa's head dipped low and she regarded him slower, her nostrils a mere foot away from him. She expected him long and hard as if scrutinizing every tiny detail of his face and form.

Then she straightened up and let her leather wings unfold as much as the room would allow.

"You have found favour with me, this day…Atheist Sareth." She announced. "As such I heed my children's request and bestow my blessing upon you."

Without warning she reared back her head, taking a deep breath before unleashing a torrent of fire. Breathing flames, she directed them down onto Sareth.

The young man raised his hands to ward it off, expecting the searing heat to burn him alive… but there was no heat. The flames danced around him, melting off either side as if they were alive and conscious enough not to touch him.

The inferno raged; melting down like ice in sunlight until it came to a point directly in front of him. There it condensed, becoming smaller and smaller before finally the fire became solid.

Hovering there before him was a blade, curved at the tip with a jagged edge. The blade was long, almost to the point of being a claymore and was straight from the tip to the hilt, which was shaped like a dragon with spread wings, the mouth open where the blade began. The pommel stone was dark but with a red outline, as if it were pulled from flowing magma.

Sareth just stared at the sword for the space of five breaths before, slowly at first; he reached out and took a hold of the hilt.

The instant his hand was there, the blade burst into flame. It was as if the sword were suddenly a mighty tongue of fire, lashing upwards with all the ferocity of a dragon.

"Behold the blessed of Malassa!" Raelag announced and Sareth glanced up, finding the clanlord on his feet and Malassa was gone.

The massive doors through which she had come were now closed, all happening in an instant while the sword had captivated his attention.

The crowd burst into cheering and then the event turned into a chaotic melee of questions and counter questions to which Sareth had no answers.

Thankfully, Raelag spirited him away and into an adjacent chamber, leaving the crowd to gossip and spread rumors. Just before the door was shut after them, Sareth saw through the crowd that watching him intently was Arantir.

The Necromancer's eyes were probing and his expression profoundly suspicious.

Sareth was taken through several stone corridors before he came into a small chamber that had the comforts and furniture of an office.

The young man was still holding the flaming sword forth like it were live snake. The fire was not hot to him but he wasn't taking any chances. He did not want to set anything on fire by mistake and he didn't know how to… turn the thing off.

"You're in a heightened state of emotional stress." Raelag told him once he closed the door after him. "What you are holding there is the Dragon Flame Tongue, the sword of the Dragons. It responds to the emotional distress of its wielder. If you relax, the flames will dissipate."

Sareth nodded once and took a deep breath, and then another… and another. Forcing himself to calm down with a fiery blade in his hands was not easy but force regular breathing eventually took its toll and the fire that dances along the blade began to lessen and lessen until finally it went out completely.

"I hope you realise what an honour you've been given there." Raelag began, folding his arms behind his back. "That sword was part of a set, a sword, shield, crown, armour, mantle and ring, forced by all the dragons. You have earned possession of the Dragon Flame Tongue, the sword of fire."

Sareth tested the weight of the blade. He knew basic and advanced swordsmanship as that had been apart of his education under Phenrig. The blade was perfectly balanced despite its weight

"That sword has magical properties… I mean besides just being a light source when you need one." The clan lord continued. "Its fire will ward off any spells cast at you that rely on the elemental power of the cold. Ice and snow will melt in your path… once you master the blade that is."

There was a knock at the door behind them.

"Come in, Lethos." Raelag remarked and then he frowned and looked at Sareth. "And you can tell that little raven haired minx of yours that she can stop ease dropping, I know she's there."

There was a short flash and Xana appeared beside Sareth, a guilty smile spread across her lips.

Lethos entered the room the more conventional way, bring Leanna along with him.

"Forgive us for taking our time, clan lord." Lethos began. "But the crowd was… needless to say… a bit rambunctious."

"Now that is a sword!" Xana remarked, admiring the weapon in Sareth's grasp. "Go on; make it go all fiery again!"

"Ah, no, I'd rather my fortress not burn down after I fought so hard to protect it." Raelag told her quite sternly. "And as such, lessons on elemental control and dark magic, for all of you here."

"What?" Leanna asked looking surprised. "Me as well?"

"You have basic magical training." Raelag told her with a shrug. "Sareth and Lethos have allreadu qualified and I think you can make the training regiment if you try."

"Me as well?" Xana asked putting on the best innocent expression that she could.

Raelag fixed her with a steady and quite unfriendly gaze.

"Yes." He said. "Even with your unique nature, you are suitable for such training."

Sareth paused.

"You're not…drafting the four of us are you?" He asked then.

Raelag pushed his lips together and then paced back and forth.

"I am in need of mages and warlocks right now yes." He admitted and then he shook his head. "But no; I have another task in mind for you, one equally as important. A task that will take place as soon as your training is complete."

He walked over to a chest that lay onto of a stone table nearby and opened it. From inside, the clan lord retrieved four identical scrolls. They were all rolled up with black silk ribbons and bound by wax seals.

He shared them out between them.

"These scrolls will give you the basics on Dark Magic incantation and Elemental Chains." He said. "Study them well tonight… and then come to me again the next morning. There we will begin the training proper."

His frown suddenly quickly into an uncharacteristic and wicked grin.

"It will be a memorable experience for all of you."


	13. Part 3, chapter 12

Chapter 12

Despite all that had happened to him, Sareth had enjoyed a certain amount of Anonymity. No one knew who he really was and so that granted him a small reprieve from the reality shattering events that seemed to follow him like a lost puppy. That was no longer possible for he was now 'Malassa's blessed'.

Throughout the city the dark elves would bow to him, even the children. Before he had been little more than a visitor to the city of Virbeth and now he was their hero.

Desperately he wanted to tell them to stop it, to leave him alone but how was he supposed to tell an entire city that he would prefer not to be the absolute centre of attention.

It had been Malassa's benediction more than his acts during the siege which had promoted him into instant fame. The Dragon of Darkness, mistress of the mysterious faceless and god of the dark elven people was a reclusive deity. She was rarely seen by many and, according to Lethos, only revealed herself when it was to her own interests. She was the god of intrigue and plots and was interested only in the events that subtly shaped history and culture.

Sareth was not sure what to make of his meeting with a god. There had been things in that meeting which had confused him. The self realization of his atheism was something to be concerned about as well.

He knew the gods were real. He knew that the Dragons worshipped by the peoples of Ashan were actual deities, real and powerful and yet he did not believe in any of them.

He did not deny their existence… he simply didn't feel any compelling need to worship any of them at all. Malassa had seen this and referred to him as 'Atheist Sareth' and he was not sure whether that had been intended as an insult or not.

The blade she had given him, the Dragon Flame Tongue, was a unique weapon that he had never seen the like of before. The metal was black as if forged in both the hottest flames and in perpetual darkness. When he held it in his hands, the blade itself burst into fire and like Raelag had said it responded to how emotional its wielder was. The more excited Sareth was the hotter and brighter the flames became and when he calmed down the flames shrank before extinguishing themselves.

If he was honest, he would admit that the weapon intimidated him. It was a sword of elementals, something he had only read about before in his studies with Phenrig. Never before would he imagine he would see one, or own one.

"You're what?!" Leanna gasped as Lethos, having no other choice at this point, explained their plan and intentions to her. The mage held both hands to her lips in surprise at the announcement. The dark elf shrugged with a sly grin.

"It won't be that difficult." He stated as if it were nothing at all. "We'll be inside the manor a maximum of ten minutes. Raelag's council will go on until twilight and Arantir will be required to attend it. That leaves his manor house with a minimum of security."

When they had been dismissed by the clan lord, the four of them had not preceded back to their rooms but rather instead, at Lethos' insistence, had headed into the city itself. In the aftermath of the siege, few were still too afraid to come outside their doors and the suspended stone catwalk streets were for the most part deserted. Although those that they did see would bow to Sareth the moment they saw him. Rumour travelled faster than any rider in the land.

The dark elf assassin had taken them to a tavern in the rider's district. This was another of the large sections of the city that stood removed from the main structure of the palace. It was here that the Grim Riders, the backbone of the armies of Ygg-chall, were trained and their rides bred for combat. The reptiles that they rode were about the size of a horse, a type of lizard bread from creatures the dark elves had captured in the jungles to the east centuries ago. The district was sectioned off into pens and training areas that had the faint appearance of jousting arenas. Minotaur slaves were used to clear out the stables and from the smell, Sareth reasoned that these lizards required more cleaning up after than a regular horse.

The inn was called the 'Galloping Raptor' or at least that was what Lethos translated the sign out front as. It was a small establishment usually occupied by the Grim riders themselves for recreational usage.

"Sareth, was this your idea?" Leanna asked, looking over at the young man. Sareth squirmed in his seat a little guilty, not able to withstand her accusing glance.

"Well…" He began slowly. "Yes."

"Sareth…" She began again and her look of disappointment was almost heart breaking. "Do you have any idea of what a necromancer can do?"

Sareth had read about necromancers and the art of necromancy in his studies. It had been a small part of the education however had Phenrig had focused his education on destructive magic more than anything else. It had been one of the reasons he had wanted to leave his old home and journey out in the first place, to find and learn new magic.

"My dear lady." Lethos started with his typical gentlemanly façade, which he always seemed to adopt in the presence of beautiful women, breaking in quickly but he kept his voice low as the tavern was not empty. "We all here know what a necromancer, especially one of Arantir's reputation, is capable of doing to his enemies. The stories of Markal the necromancer are renowned throughout most of the civilised world. Our intention is not to confront him directly, but rather to ascertain the truth of something."

"Truth?" Leanna repeated with a raised eyebrow. "What truth?"

Xana, who had been sitting on the opposite side of the square table from Leanna, folded her arms and shook her head with a superior look of smugness that she knew irritated the mage.

"Haven't you put it together yet?" She asked her. "Sareth is doing this for you, girl!"

"For me?" Leanna asked looking over at Sareth inquisitively. "What does she mean?"

Sareth cleared his throat, looking a tiny bit embarrassed.

"Your uncle; Menelag." He began and the look on her face softened as realization crept into her eyes. "A Wight was the thing that caused his death and they can only be summoned by necromancers. The ghoul's as well. They were all undead things. Arantir is the only necromancer we've seen for miles so…" He left it hanging.

Leanna held a hand to her lips again only this time her expression was filled with an intense compassion. Tears formed and stood openly in her eyes. She was genuinely touched that Sareth was doing something this dangerous for her.

Sareth found that despite this he could not meet her eyes.

"Look, just let me in!" A loud guttural voice stated from the doorway to the tavern. Sareth half turned to see that the tavern's bouncer, a large dark elf armed with a pike, was looking through a shutter in the door at whoever was outside.

The young man had turned because that voice coming from outside was quite familiar.

"Read the sign outside." The bouncer replied with flat indifference. "No creatures or pets."

"Creature?! PET?!!!" The person outside spluttered. "I'm warning you sonny, let me in or there'll be trouble!" The door shook as something hammered into it from behind. The bouncer let out an unimpressed grunt and held his pike forward menacingly, flexing his muscles.

"Get lost or I'll have you run through!" he threatened.

"Alright, I warned you!" There was the sound of metal sliding beside metal from beyond the doo. The door suddenly heaved inwards in a mighty spray of wood chips.

A metal projectile flew through the shattering wood, soaring up and straight into the doorman's face. Knocked silly, the dark elf was sent flying backwards some dozen or so feet before he slammed into the far wall, his pike dropping to the floor with a loud clattering.

As the smell of gunpowder filled the room, a short figure in a ale spotted robe of animal skins stepped through the gaping hole in the doorway, idly tapping a unique club that doubled as a mortar against his palm.

It was Graug, the gremlin that Lethos had introduced both Sareth and Xana to some days before.

"Hey, you heard all heard me." Graug remarked to those in the tavern who were staring at both him and the unconscious bouncer, who quite possibly had only been saved from death by the fact that the door had taken a good deal of the punch of the mortar's cannon ball.

"I did warn him. And does anyone ELSE want to make me leave because I'm a 'creature'?" He waved his club around, more in the direction of the dark elf behind the bar. The barman raised his arms quickly, shaking his head from side to side. "Wise decision." He remarked and stepped forward, kicking the debris from the door out of the way.

The door, or what was left of it, was pushed open and the wizard Havez stepped forward with a pained look at the carnage his gremlin partner had brought before even stepping inside the place.

"Ale, if you please good man." The wizard told the startled barkeep. "Quickly too if you can. Ale mellows him out and he's already in a bad mood." He glanced back at the unconscious dark elf. "And he gets violent when he's in a bad mood."

The barman immediately began pouring tankards of foaming liquid from the kegs stacked to one side.

As Havez dumped a few coins on the counter to pay for their drinks, Graug waltzed right up to their table and jumped up into the seat beside Xana.

"Hey there girly, nice to see you again." He remarked with a wicked grin, affectionately patting Xana on her hip.

"Unless you wish to loose it, remove your hand." She told him with a steely glint in her eyes. Graug laughed.

"Ah ha, feisty ya are!" He said approvingly. "I like that quality in my woman. Even so he did move his hand.

"Ah so glad you too managed to get through the siege of the city unharmed and unmolested" Lethos remarked to the two of them as they sat down. Lethos shrugged.

"It wasn't difficult." He stated and folded his arms on the table. "For individuals of our skill, evading danger was quite easy."

Graug looked up at the wizard with a sour expression.

"You hid under an ale sodden, lice ridden bed in a dingy back alley tavern until it was over!" He said and Havez glared back.

"So did you!" He snapped. "And at least I didn't scream like a little girl and then wet myself."

"I did not!"

"Your screams of terror were heard all over the merchant district!"

Lethos burst out laughing, smacking his palm down on the table as the two of them argued about the clear lack of courage either of them had displayed during the siege. Sareth decided not to brag about his victory over the Hydra to either of them. With these two he could pretend that the monumental events had not taken place.

As they argued he sat there alone with his thoughts, wondering still about their impact. In the space of a few days everything had changed about himself. There was power in him, he could sense it now, a power that went beyond magic. There was a bestial side to him, a feral nature that had to be controlled before it was unleashed around some innocent people.

"Arantir's manor house has on the surface only one entrance, the main gate by that opens out towards the main citadel." Lethos was saying. "It's patrolled however by the Black Guards and we'd never bluff or bribe our way in."

"Why not?" Graug asked, taking a swig from the tankard of ale brought to him.

"They can't be bribed." Lethos told him. "The Black Guards are perhaps the most incorruptible men in the world."

The gremlin snorted, blowing the head off his beer.

"There's no such thing as an incorruptible man. No one is ultimately loyal."

"Oh its not loyalty that drives them." Lethos explained with a whimsical expression. "And it's not how much their paid either. The Black guards take what the Necromancer's give them and any lack attention to their duties result in immediate punishment."

Leanna looked up at Lethos with a horror stricken expression on her face.

"You're a mage m'lady." The Dark elf said with neutral voice. "So I'm sure you've been told what Necromancer's can do to those who displease them."

Sareth's own studies in magic had covered this as well, if only peripherally. The Necromancer's held the power of life and death in their hands and their chastisement could literally damn a soul to an eternity of pain and torment.

"You said it was the only entrance on the surface?" Havez asked. Lethos nodded and then began arranging tankards and pots on the table to form a makeshift diagram to show them. The Raelag's citadel was represented by an earthenware jug while a half empty cup served as Arantir's guest mansion.

"Like most of the buildings in Virbeth, the manor has an aqueduct delivering water and taking away waste. It's not particularly large but it is possible to get into the manor that way without being seen."

Xana grinned at him.

"You've done this sort of thing before." She accused him. Lethos smiled back impishly.

"Infiltration was one of my specialties at the academy."

Havez frowned.

"Well if you can get in that way, why do you need us?" He asked, gesturing to Graug and himself.

"Because I do not think that Arantir is that stupid." Lethos told him. "Undoubtedly I am certain he is to have left some magical defences across any entrance to a place he dwells." He turned to look at Sareth. "It will be dangerous brother mine; Necromancer's are quite unforgiving to trespassers."

Sareth ran a weary hand over his face.

"I know." He remarked. "But I owe Menelag this much. If Arantir was the one who sent those ghouls and that Wight…" He stopped to glance over at Leanna, who sat looking up at him with wide eyes. "…then I want to know."

Lethos sighed and nodded once.

"So be it then." He said with a note of finality. "Then let's go!"

Arantir's manor house was an impressive building with large ivory statuettes on either side of the large bronze entrance. The building had suffered a bit of damage during the siege and the side of a wall was being repaired by dark elf work men who laboured uneasily under the suspicious eyes of the Black Guards.

Arantir, who would be consulting up at the citadel with Raelag for some time, had left his ambassadorial home relatively undefended taking a large number of his guards with him.

This did not mean however that it was unprotected. Even before they had gotten within sight of the building, Havez had stopped suddenly and shuddered as if the air around him had suddenly gone cold.

"What's the matter?" Sareth asked as the wizard leaned on a wall to steady himself.

"Oh… I can feel it even from over here." He said scowling. "The reek of death magic is so strong I could almost gag."

Leanna herself went pale when she came here and had to back off to a side street.

"I can't feel anything." Sareth stated, not sure whether to feel glad or disturbed about it.

"Necromancer perversions have this particular stench to them." Havez explained with his face wrinkled in consternation. "Those trained in the arts taught in the Silver cities can sense it. To me that place reeks worse than an abattoir."

Sareth's stiffened.

"Then he is summoning creatures."

"Let's not jump to conclusions." Lethos told him quickly. "This might just be Arantir's natural magical aroma. Besides, we need proof… not just an uneasy feeling."

The entrance to the aqueduct Lethos had told them about was little more than an opening in the next street, leading down through one of the suspended stone walk paths into a running drain. The dark elf pried off the metal lid with slid aside with a rusty grating nose. The water running inside was not very deep but it was flowing very fast towards the manor. This was the supply of water feeding into the house, rather than the waste disposal for which Sareth was intensely thankful.

"We'll stay out here." Xana stated. "Leanna and I can be your look outs. If anything happens…" She tapped the amulet around Sareth's neck tenderly. "Then we'll let you know."

"Much appreciated, girly." Graug remarked, climbing down into the underground aqueduct. "Cheer us all on while we risk life and limb won't you lass?" Xana shot him a venomous look and with an amused cackle, the Gremlin retreated down.

Havez followed quickly. Although he was considerably taller than his friend and had to stoop a great deal in order to fit inside. Havez and Sareth, both being moderately medium in size got in fine although they still had to duck their heads underneath the low ceiling.

The water running around Sareth's feet was icy cold, probably channelled in from the surface. The only light came from the open hatch from which they'd just come.

In this strange moment Sareth realised that he had grown accustomed to the dim light of the Dark Elf caverns. His eyes had completely adapted and the dingy gloom of this underground world was by now as clear to him as a pale daylight.

"We definitely don't want to be wandering into this in the dark." Lethos said sardonically. "Lethos, can you make us a little light? Not too much, just enough so we can see but not enough so it might draw attention."

The wizard made an annoyed expression before holding out his hand, the fingers arched. There was a whispered breath as he uttered some incantation and a waft of pale yellow fire appeared in his grasp. It softly illuminated the dank tunnel, showing the mushrooms lining the walls with a thick layer of algae surrounding them.

"Alright gentleman." Lethos began. "We have ten minutes inside that house. I won't risk any longer than that and if something goes wrong, we vacant immediately."

Graug nodded.

"Sounds fair enough." He said, hefting his mortar club over one shoulder.

Trudging in single file through the stone pipe, the four of then moved in total silence towards the house. There was only a thin covering of stone and marble flooring above and they could hear voices and footsteps coming from above. Some of those walking around were wearing armour and they clinked nosily. Lethos talked to them in hand singles, gesturing with his fingers when they needed to stop or when they needed to hurry. If they could hear what was going on down here, it was a safe bet that someone might be able to hear them from above.

The tunnel seems to be the main aqueduct for this district, tunnels diverging off at various points to deliver the water needed for the various other buildings. Lethos led them confidently without ever once taking a wrong turn.

Despite how intimidating the blade across Sareth's back had become, suddenly he was glad of its presence. It's intimidating had changed its role to a reassurance against the anxiety.

Suddenly Havez put his foot down on something that moved and slithered away, a water snake that hissed angrily at him. It was small and non venomous but Havez reared back ready to let out an instinctive yell. Quickly he was grabbed by Graug, who clamped a hand over his mouth so only a muffled grunt escaped him.

"Quiet!" Lethos whispered back urgently. "We're right underneath the house now."

The wizard nodded and the gremlin released him.

About twenty meters around a corner, they could see light. The water level rose as the pipe dipped down until it was swirling around their chests. Being the smallest, Graug had to paddle through it. At the end of this tunnel it widened out into a small well like pool, a soft pale green light coming from above. The entrance to which was cut off by a rusty grate which did not look very strong.

Lethos reached for the bars to pull them aside when Havez grabbed his wrist.

"Wait!" He said.

"Why?"

Havez reached down, snapping off a small mushroom from the side of the wall and tossed it at the bars. When it made contact, the fungus instantly withered away into a blackened husk. A foul stench filled the air as the mushroom then turned to dust and dropped away for the fragments to be carried away by the water.

"Aye, black magic." Graug muttered and then he spat. "The slightest touch and instant death." Lethos drew back from the grate instinctively.

Havez cracked his knuckles.

"Give me a minute and I'll crack it open." He said and held forth his hands perhaps an inch from the bars. He closed his eyes and began muttering an incantation in a voice so low it was hard to mark out what he was saying.

The bars before him hummed with a responding low resonance and slowly, marks on their battered surface began to glow bright red. Havez continued muttering, going faster and faster and the markings grew brighter and brighter. Then with a jerk, he twists his hands around and lunged forward grasping the bars.

Sareth and Lethos let out a startled oath despite themselves but the wizard did not instantly perish. The bars sizzled in his grip and the water around them boiled and churned as if suddenly boiling.

The marks on the bars then sizzled, peeling off and turning into a faith foul smelling gas in the air that drifted and then dissipated.

Havez let go of the bars, straightened and dusted his hands.

"Nothing to it." He remarked smugly.

"Well now, if you're done patting yourself on the back…" Graug began, pushing past and with a solid kick he knocked the rusty bars aside. They fell into the water with little more than a splash.

The wall beyond was not very deep; the walls curved and made of white brick. A few drains in the floor led the water away and down some side was a pulley system of ropes where a pale could be loaded up and down to fetch the water. Another grate covered it perhaps twenty feet above with a trap door for the pulley system on the far side. Through the most substantial bars, Sareth could see the ceiling of some room above. The four of them stood very still, listening for the sign of any movement above.

"This would be the kitchens." Lethos said in a low voice. "Might not be any guards here but let's not take chances." He looked at Graug. "Can you climb up and have a look?"

The gremlin nodded, slung his mortar over his back in its holster and went over to the far wall. Gremlins it seemed were natural climbers and Graug very quickly scaled the curved slippery surface, latching on where any other would have fallen and very quickly he was at the top, poking his head through a gap in the bars.

This was not the first time Sareth had heard the gremlin swear but the words he choked out then made his hair stand on end.

"What's wrong?" Havez called up.

Graug looked back down at them, his scaly face a mix of contending emotions. There was anger there with some intense loathing and contempt with a sprinkling of horror for seasoning.

"It's hideous!" He spat, grinding his teeth together. "Abominable!" Lethos made a face.

"Are there any guards?" He asked.

"No." Graug said without looking at him. "The room doesn't have anyone alive left in it." The three down below exchanged worried looks. "Hang on, I'll open the trap door and you can climb up the ropes."

The gremlin swung across the bars like a monkey until he reached the closed opening. Reaching through, he toyed with the latch for a moment it moved aside the bar with a loud metallic clank and then pushed the trapdoor open and upwards.

"I'll lead from here." Hazed told them. "I can sense where the largest concentration of mana is in the house." Lethos nodded and the wizard went first up the ropes, using the pales and buckets and footholds to better propel himself up. Sareth followed with the dark elf right behind him.

The smell of blood was more than familiar when Sareth pulled himself up over the ledge. He had smelt this carnal house reeks once before in Phenrig's private study.

Arantir's kitchen was awash with dried and fresh blood. The surfaces, floor and walls were dark with it. Hooks, saws, knives and other cutting instruments were hung on racks on the walls and hanging up in rows nearby were slabs of meat. Not pork nor beef or even lamb but flesh cut and salted from a humanoid species, a small as a human child.

"Oh." Havez began with a weary sigh. "Goblin meat."

Graug stood nearby, staring at the rows of dead goblins with an expression of complete and utter rage.

"Monstrous!!" He managed to say between curses, barely keeping his voice down.

"Goblins are looked on as edible animals in various parts of the world." Havez explained to them, ignoring the gremlin's spluttering. "The meat's considered a delicacy in Heresh and Ranaar." He went over to Graug and put a hand on his shoulder. "Come on now, we don't have time for this."

"It's murder!" He blustered.

"You can rant later." The wizard said sternly. "Right now we need to prioritise."

Graug paused and then drew in a large breath, purposely closing his eyes to the slaughter of creatures he would consider his own kin. Then he turned not to look at the display anymore but the edges of his mouth were turned down into a snarl of hate.

"Are you inside?" Sareth could hear Xana's voice echo into his own mind. "I heard raised voices through your ears, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." Sareth replied silently. "We're ok. Are you two hidden?"

"We are. Leanna's found us a spot were we can watch the guards without being observed ourselves." Xana paused before adding reluctantly. "You know she's not quite as useless as I thought she was."

Lethos went over to a door in one of the walls and put his ear against it listening. Then he leaned against it and pushed it open an inch at a time, just enough so he could peer out.

"It's a side corridor." He announced. "Nobody there, come on, let's go." The four of them hurried out into a stone passageway lined with a thick red carpet on the floor. Feminine sculptures lines the walls with two small chandeliers paced about ten feet from each other. There was a door at the far end, a large solid built oak door with engraved panels. A flight of stairs led up from the left hand side of the corridor, spiralling upwards in a stone column.

"Up there." Havez said, pointing towards it. "The stench of the un dead is coming from somewhere above."

Sareth paused for a moment while the others made for the stairs. He suddenly had the unnerving sensation of being watched, manifesting itself in a cold shiver that ran down his spine. Given his current situation it was not a pleasant feeling. He glanced around but he could not see anything.

"Come on brother, let's not dawdle." Lethos remarked. Sareth blinked.

"What? Oh... I'm coming!"

The stairs wound upwards and the more they went the more the uneasy feeling of observation continued to bother Sareth. He wasn't sure how he knew now but he was certain that someone was watching them.

Suddenly Havez put his hand out to stop them. They had come to the door that led out into another corridor. There was a door at the far end of his ordinary looking passageway and standing to attention before them were two guards. The Black Guards were rigid as if statues, standing there with one arm raised to hold a sword.

Nobody moved, unwilling to make any sort of sound that might attract attention.

Then almost comically, Sareth's nose chose that exact moment to make itself known and he sneezed.

Both guards instantly whirled around, easily spotting them. With a cry of exclamation they raised their weapons and rushed at them. Before Sareth could even react, Lethos was there, darting forth with the agility of a cat. His arm spun down and hurled two more of the glass vials he had stored within his clothes at them. The glass shattered on their dark chest plates and the fatal cloud of poison seeped in through the gaps in their helmets.

They ran another three feet before together they stiffened in mid stride and toppled forward. Lethos leapt forward, seizing the corpses quickly before they could strikes the floor and make any more noise. Gently he lowered the bodies down. Then he pulled out a knife and began ruthlessly stabbing them with it to make sure they were dead.

"We'll drag these two into the room with us and hide them." He stated as the others drew near. "I

"If we're lucky then it'll be several hours before their found and we'll be long gone."

"I don't like basing our escape plan on an 'If'." Havez muttered, helping to drag the corpses towards the far door.

"Neither do I." Lethos said but then smirked. "But it is a whole lot more fun than planning it out."

The room beyond the door was a large vaulted chamber with stone buttress in the four corners. It was quite large with a large central stone bias in the centre and a ring of red carpet surrounding it. The majority of light in the room came from one of the violet crystals that the Dark elves used to light their city that angled down from the centre of the arched ceiling. Candles were dotted around on table, the max melted down over the surface.

It was a room that obviously had many different functions. In one corner was a large canopy bed with a set of surrounding tables, all over laden with piles of scrolls and old tomes. To these, Havez made for with a childish swing to his step.

"I knew it!" He declared, trying to keep his excitement in check as he rummaged through them. "This must be Arantir's study!" He unravelled a few of the scrolls and began reading through them.

Graug and Lethos finished hiding the corpses of the two guards, stuffing them haphazardly into a large varnished closest by the door and shut them inside.

Arantir it seemed was not a believer in keeping his various pursuits separate. He kept them all in one place, often intermixed with one another. There were many tables around the outside of the room, some held alchemic equipment that looped and wound its way back and forth between mortars, retorts and large silver Calcinators. Bottles, empty and filled were stacked in no apparent order everywhere, each one with a label written in a spidery script that Sareth did not recognise.

The smell of sulphur and worse hung in the air and it was this smell that attracted Sareth towards the central dais.

It was a raised platform about a foot high, completely smooth with curved edges along the outside. A wooden pedestal stood in front of it and laying open upon its flat top was another book, a thick tome with an old leather cover.

It was here that he finally noticed the blackened residue that covered the stones, a thick sludge like substance that smelt so bad that when he knelt down to inspect it the smell nearby made him empty his stomach right there on the spot.

He staggered back quickly.

"Over here." He said, gesturing for the others to come and see. Havez reluctantly put down his pilferage of scrolls and tiptoed over to inspect it, whatever scrolls he could conveniently carry were stuffed into his robes and under his turban. Paying no heed to the stench he reached down and scooped up a sample of it between his fingers, rubbing it over in his palm to test its texture and consistency.

"It's elemental residue alright." The wizard concluded after a moment. "I can't tell from what though." He looked over at Graug. "You're better than me at this, we have a sample here we need indentify rather quickly."

"Fine whatever." The gremlin muttered and pushed past him, kneeling down to sniff at the sludge like a hunting dog. Then he actually licked it and Sareth had to shudder in completely revulsion.

The gremlin ran it over his tongue for a moment tasting it, savouring the flavour with his face taking on a unique expression that was a mix of curiosity and disgust. Then he spat the glob of black out and whipped his mouth on the back of his sleeve.

"By Asha, that's disgusting!" He cursed and then looked directly at Sareth. "Looks like you have your murderer boy. This is Wight residue, quite fresh too. Probably from a summoning that took place within the last few weeks."

That was it.

This was all the proof Sareth needed now. It had been no coincidence just as he had thought. Arantir the Necromancer had been the one who had sent the Ghouls and the Wight after them. He was the one responsible for the death of Menelag, Leanna's uncle.

With a sudden surge, anger and rage flew through him completely unbidden and the fiery blade on his back which had been quiet burst into fire.

"Sareth!" Lethos hissed. "Get that sword under control! Its light will attract every guard in the building here!!"

It took a great deal of effort to clam himself down and the images of Menelag's death kept stubbornly repeating themselves over and over in his mind, refusing to go away. It was as if his rage were reluctant to go back to sleep once it had been riled up.

Eventually however his willpower won out and he forced himself back to an agitated calm, the sword's flames dying away in response.

"You're going to have to do something about that Sword." Havez noted critically with a shake of his head. "It's very conspicuous."

"Alright Sareth." Lethos began, this time far more calmly. "We have what we came for, confirmation that Arantir summoned the Wight you fought. Now, what do we do about it?"

Forcing himself to dwell on this rather than on how angry he was.

"We…" He began but stopped, slowly going over his options. He would need to take back proof, very conclusive proof if he were going to convince Raelag to take a stand against Arantir. "We save some of the …er… sludge, as evidence, along with anything else here that we can bring back as proof of his guilt."

Lethos nodded with a grin.

"It's a nice plan." He concluded.

"I'll start searching for more evidence back in his collection of spell scrolls." Havez said quickly and before anyone could stop him he was back to rummaging for whatever magical things he could take away with him. Graug was more practical, retrieving an empty jar from one of the tables and scooping as much of the black sludge into it as possible.

The Dark elf assassin went over to the door, leaning against it, keeping watch to ensure that no one might blunder in and catch them unawares. This left Sareth to search through the mass of documents himself.

He was about to start when the large leather bound book placed near the dais. As he looked as it more closely, he could see its extreme age and the smell of preservatives that had been used to ensure its integrity. The book had frayed page edges and the leather cover showed signs of extreme age. He felt instantly that he was looking at a book that was perhaps centuries old.

Coming up to it, Sareth glanced down across the open page. The text on the paper was written in a language he did not understand but notes had been placed for reference alongside underscored passages of texts. The notes were written in a form of Arshanese that Sareth could read.

"And behold…" He began, reading aloud from one of these notes. "There will come into your midst, the One and he shall descend from both Chaos and Order." He squinted at the scrawling text for a moment. "In his right hand shall he hold the blade of the Accused and in his left the skull of his predecessor and with this power shall none prevail against him."

It sounded like utter gibberish in his head but the words when he spoke them made him feel cold none the less. He glanced over at another of the notes which by now he supposed to be translations.

"Guard well then the fruit of the Falcon for if she falls to the fire then shall her soul be cleft in twine and she will bare forth the One and then bare him away again. For only she can lead the One down the course of either path, or neither."

Not sure why, he reached forward and gently turned the page. Spread out across the width of the book before him then was a diagram that took up the entire spread.

It resembled the old anatomy drawings Phenrig had once schooled him through when the subject of biology came along. It looked like a representation of the skeletal frame of a horse, but there were differences. Sareth had seen a horses skull before and the skull here did not look entire the same. It had a stouter nose but a wider head ridge and the mouth was lined with large dagger like teeth clearly showing that aside from whatever else this creature was it was a predator. This page had notes attached to it as well and one of them caught Sareth's eye. This artefact, this skull, had a name and Arantir had translated it.

"The Skull of Shadows?"

A moment later, that feeling that he was being observed which had followed him ever since he had set foot in this house intensified and it was no longer to unique to just him. Lethos sprang to attention, his body reacting with the trained alertness of a professional assassin.

Even Havez stopped in the act of stuffing his clothes with scrolls.

"We have company." Graug muttered, putting the jar containing the black sludge into his robes and slinging forth his mortar.

The candles around the room flickered and then one by one went out, even though there wasn't a breeze in the room. The air was growing colder and colder by the second, their breaths coming out in a thick white haze.

Havez swore.

"What is it?" Lethos asked.

"This room is protected by ghosts!" He spat. "Get down!"

Sareth had no choice but to obey as out of the cold air, forming right in front of him was a face so ghastly that his only response was to topple backwards. It was hallowed cheeked, almost skeletal but with what looked like metal parts sticking out in painful places. Its eyes were blindfolded by a metallic strap that bit down through the head and was riveted in by thick nails that had to have past through the eyes and into the brain.

With a soul chilling moan, it opened its mouth to show that its tongue had been cut out. By Asha that moan! Sareth had to cover his eyes. It was a wail of such pain and horror that he felt if he listened too long he might loose his own sanity.

As if summoned by its shrieking wail, more of these spirits began emerging from the walls, each of them maimed in some way by hideous editions to their bodies of metal and other things. Sareth needed to explanation to understand fully what they were.

They were tortured souls, spirits bound eternally in the service of the Necromancer who had enslaved them. They had been men tortured to death.

Graug took a swing at one of them with his mortar, wielding it like a club but it simply past through the insubstantial body as if it weren't even there.

The leading ghost, the first to manifest swung around and yelled out a single word, quickly joined by the others in a chorus of shrieks.

"ARANATIR!!!" It was a cry that past through the walls and out into the city itself like a shockwave. They were calling the Necromancer back, an alarm to inform him of their presence in his private chambers.

"If Arantir comes back and catches us we'll be worse than dead!" Lethos hissed. "Grab what you can, let's get out of here!"

Without exactly thinking why, Sareth lunged forward and grabbed the book on the book on the pedestal, slamming it shut and catching it up in his arms. Sensing more than seeing his theft of the book, the ghosts wailed and reached out for him with bony arms. They could not touch him physically by as their fingers reached towards him the chill of the grave filled his body, a cold so deep and perpetual that it was enough to cause him to stumble.

Graug went to his side, waving his club back and forth against the ghosts to try and ward them off but to no avail. It was only by his considerable strength that he was able to drag Sareth away. The ghosts did not move very fast and the four of them easily outdistanced them towards the door.

Before Lethos could try to open it, the door suddenly bolted itself shut with a loud grating noise and then seemed to melt, welding the door forever closed.

The Assassin backed off quickly with a startled yell as insubstantial hands reached forth through the solid surface, claw like fingers arching out to clutch towards his eyes.

The spirits that guarded the door had much more substance in their form then the others and instead of horrible implements of pain embedded in their heads they wore dark angular armour down their arms and a spiked helmet. Through the visor their hollow eyes burned bright red and their cries were not the cries of the pain filled damned but where instead cries for blood and slaughter.

These spirits were not at all like those behind them. These were men who had gladly accepted death in order to turn themselves into these abominations out of loyalty to their masters.

"Death!" One of them cried at them, jabbing a bony finger forward. "Death!" The ghosts all around them moaned in unison and advanced, pining the four of them into a defensive semi circle.

"Well brother mine, what interesting situations you manage to get yourself in." Lethos remarked jocularly, holding his dangers and poisons at the ready even though he knew they were useless. "A besieging army and a hydra turned away and now cornered by rapid ghosts."

Havez held out his arms, ready to cast a spell. Out of all their available weaponry, magic was the one thing that might hold these spirits at bay. Sareth quickly adopted his own stance, ready to unleash his own magic.

"Aye but it could be worse." Graug commented with a droll smile parting his scaly lips.

"How?" Lethos asked back over his shoulder.

The gremlin reached into his robe and took out a small canister made of animal skins which he shook. The canister responded with the satisfying sound of sloshing liquid.

"We could be out of booze." He said as sincerely as it was possible for him. "But we've got enough for good few hours."

"Oh well that is a comfort." Lethos sighed with his ears drooping and then he turned back to face the slowly advancing spectres. "If I meet the god responsible for beer after this I'll risk divine wrath and stab him with my knives."


	14. Part 3, chapter 13

( I know I know this took me SO long but I'm back!!)

Chapter 13

With an agility that his small stubby body did not suggest, Graug jumped through the ghosts in front of him and passed right through their bodies and easily avoided their deadly claws. Spinning like a ball he shot through the air, turning head over heals before slamming both feet directly into the door. There was a loud groaning as the hinges on either side snapped from the sudden impact, bolts wrenching loose as both halves of the door toppled back and crashed into the corridor leading to the room. Even the ghosts appeared a little stunned.

Then it was the wizard's turn for action.

Sareth had seen Havez use a spell before during the tavern brawl with the dark elf assassins but it had been attempts at many defence spells and elemental magic. The magic he unleashed against the ghosts that surrounded them was most definitely not and for the first time Sareth saw the true potential of a fully trained and experienced wizard.

There was a blinding flash of light, a familiar tingle of lightning as an intensive amount of elemental power was unleashed and the scream that came from the ghosts was so loud that any other sound was drowned out completely. Sareth was vaguely aware that people were shouting and that Xana was calling him over the link they shared but he could not probably hear them. The shrieks of the ghosts combined with the detonating flash from Havez's spell had filled his ears with a ringing that was causing his entire body to shake.

Lethos was shoving him forward.

"Run Sareth!" He heard him say but the sound of his voice was intensely muffled as if he were hearing it through a layer of cotton.

What brought through and introduced him to the chaos around as the sight of a translucent blue face, filled with hunger and malice lurching at him with dagger like teeth.

Staggering back, he pumped into Graug who was shoving him forward.

Suddenly they were all running down the corridor as fast as they could, bolting for their lives with a swarm of ghosts behind them.

"Here take it." Sareth called to Havez, tossing the wizard the book. The older man caught it and held it up, even while they ran to examine it.

"Not now!" Graug snapped and snatched the book from him, tucking it into his own robes.

Jumping over the corpses of the Black Guards they had left, they bolted to the top of the stairs and nearly tumbled over each other trying to get down them. Their plan for escape was not very good and perhaps had they not been unexpectedly chased by ghosts, Lethos at least would have been able to get them out without a mad dash for their lives.

As such Sareth did not entirely find himself surprised to find that the door to the kitchen and the entrance through which they had come was blocked. Black Guards, alerted by the noise, were rushing out through that very door. All of them armed with swords and in full armour.

When they saw the intruders they let out a yell of alarm and charged, weapons drawn. For a moment it seems like they were trapped.

Then the ghosts came charging down the stairs, arms reaching out as they past through some of the wall to get to them. When the guards saw the ghosts they halted in mid step, their armour clanging against their fellows.

The ghosts it seemed had not been required to know friend from foe and swarmed down towards the guardsmen. The screams were horrible and thankfully Sareth did not stop to look. He was too busy running, recognising all too well the opportunity that had been given to them.

They burst into a side room and Havez quickly shut the door behind them. It was a useless gesture, given some of their enemies could pass through solid walls but it definitely made them feel better.

"Ten minutes." Lethos remarked as they said with the wails of the ghosts getting closer behind them.

"What's ten minutes?" Havez demanded still struggling with his robes full of the scrolls he had pilfered.

"Even running, it takes ten minutes to get from the Citadel to his house. Arantir will be back here in ten minutes, minimum. We have until then to get out."

"Can't we hold him off?" Sareth asked, trying to get his breath.

"Arantir? Don't be stupid." Graug snapped with a great deal of venom, he paused to take a swig of his canister. "We're all dead unless we get away." He looked over at Lethos. "Any others way's out?"

"The front door?" Havez asked half heartedly. Graug glared at him. "Desperate times need desperate circumstance. Right now I'd settle for a window."

"A window? But we're suspended a good hundred feet above the cavern floor!"

"Believe me, in this situation it will do."

There was another shriek outside, followed by another scream… this time dangerously close. There was a thump and the door shook as something stuck it from behind.

"Let's go!" Lethos declared, directing them to another door just across the room. All at once they dashed for it. They were all a foot away from the door when it opened on its own and several guards came in.

The two groups stared at each, neither expecting to find the other here.

"Get them!" One of black armoured men declared, breaking the momentary silence. Then were was the hissing of swords coming out of scabbards as Arantir's guards drew their weapons.

Havez swung both arms wide, his fingers arching around two points in the air. The spell he called forth was an elemental burst of fire. It was perhaps a simple spell, requiring more mana than was necessary but its raw potent affect more than made up for the inefficiency.

With a hot ripple passing through the air, his spell struck the leading guard in the chest and instantly the man was on fire. The intense heat burned his skin away in moments, the armour around him melting into a running molten metal the spilled out over his body as it collapsed into dust.

Another guard rushed at them from the side but Lethos was already there, rolling forward with the skill of an acrobat. His tumbling body knocked the armoured man's legs from underneath him and he tumbled to the ground, collapsing with a loud clatter. Before the man could rise again, the dark elf back flipped to his feet and spun about with his leg drawn back, expertly kicking the fallen back just below the ear. The man's head jerked to one side with the audible sound of snapping bone.

A third tried to come at Graug from behind but the Gremlin neatly side stepped and bashed the man's skull in with his mortar club.

Sareth's own blade was drawn in an instant, whistling through the air just as he had been taught, connecting defensively with the upper hand swing of the forth guard who had come at him.

Lashing out, he kicked then man in the groin and the guard staggered back, the armour protecting him by the strike was enough to stagger him. Using the opening, Sareth drew his sword blade and rammed it forward. The blade of the Dragon Tongue bit deep, carving its way though the armour and chainmail and directly through the torso with its tip bursting out the back. The man sagged forward on the blade, sighing out as the life drained from him.

Almost as if he didn't care Sareth kicked the body off his blade and it crashed down to the ground with a clatter.

For a moment he stood staring at the body of the man he had just killed. He had done it instinctively and without a second thought and even now in hindsight he could not summon the despair and regret that had overcome him when he had killed Thralsai.

He had heard it said that if a man kills, the first kill is always the hardest but ever after the act of murder is numb to him. Did this mean that now, with the kind of power emerging in him, he would go around killing people and it would not bother him?

"Really, this isn't the time to daydream." Graug stated as he contemptuously kicked the corpse Sareth had been staring at out of the way. "Let's go." He began to heard them towards the vacant doorway.

"Sareth, Sareth are you there?!" Xana's voice inside his head called to him and it was only then that he became aware of the fact that she had been yelling at him to respond ever since the ghosts turned up.

"Yes… yes I'm here!" He called to her and his returning thought was nearly a hoarse shout in his panic and confusion.

"What's going on?" She rdamned, apparently now put off by his tone of thought. "Leanna and I can hear screams out here, what's happening?"

"It's complicated." He replied "I don't have time to explain now but we need another exit and quickly, Arantir is on his way back."

"He is?" Xana sounded genuinely surprised but strangely not frightened although her concern was obvious. There was a brief pause before she replied again. "Leanna will keep a look out. I'll find you a way out."

"Thanks." Sareth replied but did not get a chance to add anything more as their small group came to the end of the corridor. Havez suddenly came to a stop, spreading his arms out wide either side to prevent anyone from passing him.

"Ah ah, fast not so my little dears." A new voice said, sweet and luring.

Sareth froze, skidding to a stop at the sight of the figure blocking their path. The chamber beyond was large and oval shaped with a tilted floor and roof. The ceiling was held up by many stone pillars at regular intervals and arched very high overhead. There was an alter at one end of the room with the visage of the same dark elf females Sareth had seen before in architecture around the city.

All along the outside walls were large stained glass windows that illuminated the roof with a soft multicoloured light. They showed pictures of dark elves in battle with the various races that their people had overcome through their history, each depiction showing the bloody history of their people.

First there were battles with Sylvan elves and told from the dark elf perspective were an oppressive race who had wrongly accused them of a crime they had not committed and had killed thousands of their kin as punishment. Some of the scenes were quite graphic of the arrows that down on helpless dark elf children.

Other scenes were of wars underground, clashes under immense mountains with the dwarves who were portrayed as greedy butchers who raided dark elf cities for their gold and jewels.

The theme was generally one of martyrdom and brave survival and viewing these clear exaggerations gave Sareth a glimpse into the character of the dark elf people.

At first glimpse this seemed to be some sort of private chapel although the dust in the room showed that Arantir did not make use of it.

Standing there alone directly in the centre of the chapel was a single figure with crossed arms over the hilt of a claymore blade. The sword was jet black as if carved fro the darkest obsidian as was the armour the man wore. Hanging down over his back was a short black cape, embroidered with gold along its outside rim.

The man himself was tall and had a handsome regular face with a square jaw. His long raven black hair was tied back into a pony tail at the top of his scalp.

Lethos drew its dagger but Havez put a hand on his shoulder restraining him.

"Don't." He said sternly.

"It's only one man." Lethos stated with a raised eyebrow. Beside him, Graug spat and hefted his mortar.

"That's no man." The gremlin announced.

"Then what…" Sareth started but then as his eyes grew used to the colourer light he made out more features on the face of their obstructer. His ears were pointed like those of an elf but clearly he was not an elf. His skin was pale, almost white but with a greenish tinge to it and when he smiled at them his canine teeth overlapped his bottom lip.

Phenrig had instructed Sareth on how to recognise and distinguish various supernatural beings as part of his basic tuition and so he knew a vampire when he saw one.

Vampires were beings created as experiments by the Necromancers just after their first spilt with the wizards of the Silver cities; made to be enhanced soldiers and assassins but they could not withstand the light of day and were forced to drink the blood of the living in order to sustain their immortality.

"Permit me to introduce myself." The vampire stated, bowing theatrically to them with a great sweep of his arm. He had a heavy accent the origin of which Sareth could not place. "I am Giovanni, bodyguard to Lord Arantir." He looked them over up and down, his lips pursed. "Interesting. I didn't realise that security was so lax as to allow such common beggars to infiltrate any of the master's homes."

Graug snorted at the derision through his nostrils but Havez shook his head firmly at his partner, motioning him to keep still.

"What do we do?" Lethos asked, his fingers curling and uncurling around the hilt of his daggers.

"Remain still, no sudden moves." Havez whispered back, sidestepping with a toss of his head for them for follow his example.

Graug followed instantly with Sareth and Lethos shortly after.

The vampire watched them coldly for a moment before he smiled and wagged a disapproving finger in front of them, his free hand left resting suggestively on the hilt of his own blade.

"What do you think I am; some rapid dog?" Giovanni asked. "Come no, lets all just wait her for the master to arrive. I'm sure he'll be merciful and grant you all quick deaths."

Not entirely sure of his own movements, Sareth reached over his shoulder and took a hold of the hilt of the sword across his back. It slid free from its sheath.

"Sareth, what are you doing?" The wizard asked, glancing back in alarm. Sareth said nothing and shouldered his companion's side, striding forth with a sudden confidence to face the vampire.

Giovanni raised an eyebrow at him quizzically.

"Oh so we have a fighter do we?" The satisfied grin that spread across his lips showed all his fangs. With no effort he heartened his heavy sword up and over one shoulder, holding it negligently at the ready. "Well then little boy by all means try to cut me if your butter knife."

"Sareth don't!" Graug barked, coming forward. "No one can match a vampire for relaxes in one on one combat."

The gremlin was stopped when Lethos put a hand on his shoulder. Graug looked back in confusion but the elf shook his head with a prideful smile.

"Let brother mine deal with this."

"Are you insane?"

"Possibly but I believe Sareth might just surprise us." He tapped his stomach twice with a flat palm. "A gut feeling."

"Your gut feeling is going to have Sareth's own entrails sprayed all over the floor!" Graug stated contemptuously.

Sareth had been listening to their argument but had no time to think any better of the course of action that he had unconsciously chosen. In the next instant Giovanni charged, his sword swinging wide in a deadly arch.

Sareth back stepped bending back to avoid the blade as its tip pasted very close to his throat and then ducked as the vampire brought the sword back again so fast it blurred.

The gremlin had not been exaggerating in the least and it took all the agility Sareth had in his young body to avoid the tip of the obsidian sword as it swung through the air, whipping back and forth in the hands of a clear expert swordsman.

The hours Sareth had spent in intense practise of swordsmanship, under the direction of Douglas, were now paying off. Every feint and parry, dodge and thrust he used against the vampire all came to mind easily and every time he used one of them, he remembered being taught these moves for the first time.

The memories were full of warm and affection and their taste was bitter for by now Sareth knew that they were lies, illusions Phenrig and the others had cast around him to hide the truth of their bloodthirsty intent.

The fact that what they had taught him was now coming to his advantage made him feel a little sick and soiled.

His blade bet Giovanni's in mid air and they paused, testing the strength of their blades and straining against one another before the young man acted on some initiative and shouldered himself forward slamming his body into Giovanni and causing him to stagger backwards.

He followed through, his blade lashing down to clank loudly on the breastplate of the vampire's armour. The dragon tongue blade bit deep, carving into metal barrier but coming up short when it connected the with chainmail shirt underneath.

Giovanni backed off, the blade sliding out and parried it aside with a slash. Sareth lashed back, trying to close in realising that the vampire had a disadvantage with such a long blade. While his own sword, while no means small, had a short blade length and with that he could get inside his opponent's defences.

Giovanni was no fool and recognised Sareth's strategy and back stepped every strike of their blades not allowing Sareth to get in close enough.

From the sidelines of battle, his companions watched with bated breath as the young man kept toe to toe with a vampire. It was remarkable to watch.

Havez knew that the Silver Cities mages dealt with vampires at long range, knowing full well that trying to out duel one was folly and yet here Sareth was keeping toe to toe with him.

The wizard and the gremlin looked sidelong at the dark elf in their group, who simply stood there with a large grin on his face.

Suddenly there was the sound of running feet and turning back to look they saw more of the Black Guards coming down the passenger way they had just come down. Their swords were drawn and when they sighted the intruders their leader yelled, jabbing towards them with his weapon as they charged.

Acting quickly Lethos slammed the door shut and then ran the bolt across it.

"That won't hold them." Graug commented dryly.

"And what will?" Lethos asked as the door slammed forward as the guards tried to force it open.

The gremlin grinned from ear to ear and ran one of the fist size metal balls down the length of his mortar, stuffing it in tight.

"This." He said and with a flick of his wrist fired his weapon with a spray of sulphurous cloud. The projectile slammed through the door, hitting one of the guards in the head. The impact caved the helmet and skull in, the blood, brains and fragments of bone blowing out the back of the shattered head.

The body dropped down behind the door with a thump but that did not deter the other guards who pulled the corpse aside and began hammering at the bolted door.

Lethos reared back and threw a bottle of his poisons through the gap in the door make by Graug's weapon. The small delicate glass vial broke open on contact with a guard's breastplate and the resulting cloud of green mist drifted up to fill the corridor outside. There were violent coughs and yells of alarm as the poison, Lethos own lethal mix, was inhaled.

Those closest the door fell dead with a clatter and the sound of running feet revealed that the others had fled a short distance.

"Say would you be willing to sell any of those little concoctions?" Graug asked, rubbing his hands together with relish.

Displaying his fangs in a snarl, Giovanni smashed his boot into Sareth's stomach and knocked him back spinning him around. The young man's sword grated loose and the pain of the blow caused Sareth to clutch at his front. He could feel bone grate on bone in his chest, a rib or two broken in the impact.

"Sareth!!" Xana cried out in his mind, sensing his pain. "I am coming Sareth!!"

Giovanni's leg swung around with the agility only a vampire could have, the kick connecting sharply with Sareth's back and knocked the young man to the floor with a crash. The Dragon Tongue blade was thrown from his grip and skidded across the floor, clattering as it went.

The taste of blood was in Sareth's mouth, a thick flavour of salt and copper that seemed to surge down his throat as he struggled to rise. Gazing down through stunned eyes he saw that dripping out of his mouth and nose was a steady dripping of red.

"Sareth! Lethos cried. "Move!"

Sareth did so without thinking, rolling to the side just as Giovanni's blade came down to sink deep into the stones of the floor. Stumbling back to his feet, Sareth dove for his sword but the vampire caught his ankle in one hand and tossed him back.

His head cracked into one of the stone ceiling support pillars and all sound was muffled.

He thought he heard someone shouting his name, or many people at once. He could only clearly make out Xana's cry of alarm and fear and knew that she was on her way.

In that stunned instant he watched Giovanni charge at him with his sword drawn back with a sort of calm detachment, as if he was merely an observer.

The surge that suddenly pulsed through his body a moment later was more than familiar.

It was a sensation he had felt more than once before. The first time he had felt it had been in the baths when facing down the bigot Vayshan and then again when he had helped fend off the assassins in the tavern. The last time had been when he had kicked Thralsai off the head of the Hydra and to his death.

This time it was like an unleashing, of all; rationality and thought being shoved aside and a raw powerful instinct breaking through.

As the sword flew towards him he not only dodged the lunge before also brought his leg up so sharply that his foot connected with Giovanni's chin and sent him flying.

Left unprepared and stunned by this strike the vampire recovered in the air but Sareth reared back both hands and cast forth at him a bolt of elemental lightning. With an act of acrobatics worthy of swallows Giovanni dodged it, twisting his body around so fast he blurred.

Trying to land he had to rapidly defend himself from Sareth's outstretching hands, each bathed in magical fire. It was as if suddenly he was fighting a different person. His sword swung wide trying to make this berserker back off but the young man dodged and wove, darting in close with fire.

Fire.. the one element vampires feared above all others. Seeing it so close Giovanni lashed out in desperation with a kick to Sareth's chest that knocked him back.

"Sareth, please… what is happening?" Xana was crying but all Sareth could hear now was the thudding of his heart in his chest and the fire in his veins.

He reached out to his left, palm up.

The Dragon Tongue flame sword on the ground nearby clattered against the stone before it leapt up through the air by itself and flew to his hand. He grasped the hilt firmly and when his fingers closed around it, the blade ignited.

There was a flash, a rush of heat and the sword in his hands leapt into flame. Its blade burned with fire, illuminating the chapel with an orange glow.

The feeling of such power and heat bent to his will was, to Sareth's sudden understanding intoxicating.

Giovanni looked a bit confused by the fire in front of him, his eyes reflecting the fire that was held before him.

"How…" He began but never finished, his sword drowned out in the roar of the flames.

The first slash caught the vampire across the chest, his black armour melting away even before the sword struck him.

The second flash struck across his left leg, the flesh underneath the chainmail scorching black near instantly.

A third strike knocked him down to the ground with his cape burning and his hair beginning to smoulder.

Sareth's friends watched in sudden awe at Sareth's power and his complete domination of an opponent which by all logic should have killed him.

Sareth's blade burst and slashed over and over, systematically carving away Giovanni's armour. The vampire had backed up against one of the stone pillars, the melted remains of his sword as his only defence. Still Sareth persisted, slashing over and over until Giovanni lay there, unable to move his skin near black with burns.

Sensing victory, the young man raised the sword over his head preparing to strike the final blow.

"My love!" The voice of a woman cried, echoing in the chapel. Sareth paused and glanced to his right as another figure slid out of the shadows. Her face was round but with well defined cheekbones, her eyes and hair jet black.

Her armour was similar to that of Giovanni only with a ruff of fur around the neckline.

Her pale skin pointed ears and fangs showed her nature.

Instantly she came to Giovanni's side. kneeling down beside him.

"Ornella… no, get away from me." Giovanni began through his burnt lips struggling to rise and push her out of the way. "Stay away, you mustn't get in the way."

"No my love, I came as fast as I could. Lord Arantir is on his way." She told him, clutching his arm. "And I will defend you until he arrives." With a fluid motion she rose and turned to face Sareth, a hidden blade drawn out from a scabbard at her side.

"You… you can't beat him." Giovanni gasped, straining to see.

Sareth just stared at them.

The image of himself, holding the fiery sword over this pair ready to strike them down flashed into his mind. He had enough power to incinerate these two, to burn them away to ashes.

He could do it, it would be so easy. Just one swing and they and anyone else who dared to stand against him would be out of his way. He was unbeatable, untouchable and no one would dare stand against his might. He could do anything he wanted. He could dominate all before him and kill anyone who dared to cross him.

With a hoarse cry, Sareth flung the weapons out of his hands. It flew through the air, still burning to clash into the wall and sank nearly up to the hilt in the stone.

The horror that ran through his mind was indescribable, for now he understood.

Why had Phenrig and the other cultists spend so much time teaching him how to fight and kill, the secrets of magic and the arts of stealth when they had intended to kill him in their bloody ritual?

The answer was now obvious. They had never intended to kill him. All this time they had not just been preparing him, they had been training him, moulding him over the years he had been in their sway until he had been suitable to become a monster…a creature of raw power and hatred. That interrupted ritual no doubt had been the finalisation of the process, but avoiding it had not helped him avoid that fate.

He had merely postponed it.

"Sareth…" Lethos began trying to approach. Sareth swung around, his hands in front of him.

"NO!" He cried harshly. "Get away from me!"

The vampire woman Ornella stood there stock still in defence of her lover but held two fingers to her lips and whistled. For a moment there was silence and then that silence was broken when the familiar screeching of the ghosts began to rise. The spectre guardians for Arantir were coming in their multitude.

"We don't have time for this!" Graug spat and without a moments hesitation came up behind Sareth was whacked him across the head with his mortar club. The blow stunned the young man and he fell forward, toppling unconscious into Lethos' arms.

Havez ran forward, his hand rearing back and then thrusting itself forward with muttered incantations. From his fingers a burst of fire blasted forth, soaring through the air and smacking into one of the stained glass windows.

The glass melted nearly instantly on contact and a gapping hole steaming hole opened up for them.

Graug grabbed the embedded Dragon Tongue sword and yanked it free, carrying it over his shoulder and running for their only way out.

As Lethos dragged the inert body of the young man towards the exit, ghosts began to slide forth from the walls; one at a time at first and then in their multitudes all screaming for blood.

About facing Havez held out both hands and with a commanding incantation summoned forth a barrier of fire; a single flash of magically augmented flame. Several ghosts that were flying in close with outreaching arms were caught in the immediate blast of release power and their screams cut off as the flames engulfed them. The two vampires, sensitive and vulnerable to fire were forced to shield their eyes from the flames. Ornella put her body in front of Giovanni's to protect him.

When the flames died out the four intruders were gone and the ghosts were screaming in the frustration of an escaped prey.

--

Arantir looked around the chaos, his gaze steady and unconcerned even at the extent of the fire damage. Calmly he crossed over to the injured Giovanni casually sidestepping the pool of blood. Beside him was his love and confidante Ornella, along with the corpses of several Black Guards. The men had been drained down to the last drop of blood and many of Giovanni's wounds were already healing.

"What happened here?" The Necromancer asked, looking him directly in the face.

"My lord." Giovanni began, brushing aside the arms of his woman to face his master directly. "I am afraid that your private study was broken into and some of your guardian spirits destroyed."

A flicker of annoyance crossed Arantir's face, he only emotion he had shown thus far.

"The Codex?" He asked but it was clearly he already knew the answer.

"Gone my lord, along with all your research notes." The vampire said and coughed once, blood spraying up over his battered breastplate. He was still not completely healed. "I am sorry master... I failed you. I accept full responsibility"

"You have nothing to reproach yourself for." Arantir assured him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It is clear that you did everything in your power to prevent it."

"Thank you Master." Ornella began, cradling Giovanni to her.

The Necromancer took some time to survey his ruined temporary study. Any side experiments he had been running were now completely ruined, his bed and tables reduced to blackened heaps. As Giovanni had said, the book, the Shazzar Codex was gone.

Its loss was a significant blow. It was a one of a kind tome, irreplaceable and Arantir had not yet had time to fully translate it. He had learned much from the book and with more time he would have unveiled more, perhaps enough for him to act to put an end to the Dark prophecy.

Now he would have to seek guidance elsewhere.

He knew who the thief was and he could not fault Giovanni for failing to stop him, even if he had been inclined to. The vampire had been out of his league.

If anything Arantir was impressed enough that he had delayed the thief for any amount of time. It suggested that their enemy, now finally arisen, was not yet fully mature.

Events were in motion now and he had to move with him if he were to make any difference. The duty Asha had bound to him took precedence over all else, even any alliance he might be able to attain from Raelag.

"We're leaving." He said, turning to the only surviving Captain of his Black Guards who stood behind him in the shattered remains of the door to his study. "Transfer all my remaining belongings to the caravans. We can do no more in these morbid caves."

The captain nodded once, remaining mute. Black Guards were never allowed to speak to the Necromancers who outranked them and only did so with express permission. Once the guard was gone, Arantir turned back to the podium in the centre of the room where he had summoned the Wight which had claimed the life of the Wizard Menelag.

Menelag had been marked for death ever since the end of Queen Isabel's war, a known cultist associate. But had Arantir had any idea exactly who had been in that group with Menelag then he would have summoned an army of undead to strike them down, not just a Wight a few expendable Ghouls. The wasted opportunity stung at him.

Or perhaps not…

Perhaps this theft was not so much a loss as it was another opportunity. Another chance to strike and destroy the threat in its infancy. His notes would lead his enemy from place to place along the trail, whereas he knew where to go directly.

Smiling, he looked up towards the ceiling.

"You will be done, Asha." He said, thanking his god for the second chance to serve her.


	15. Part 3, chapter 14

Chapter 14

Raelag's face was grim as he looked down at the book he held in his hands. His brow as furrowed in the telltale expression of one who has been forced to see something that he would intensely prefer not to deal with at all. The book Sareth and the others had been to acquire in Arantir's mansion had mostly survived intact despite what they had gone through to get it. The only damage that was really noticeable was the ale stain down the spine of the book and this came from being stuffed inside Graug's dirty tunic for too long.

Before the clan lord, waiting for his response stood Leanna, Xana and Sareth. The two girls watched Raelag face for any sign of emotion but Sareth's attention was not entirely there, his eyes off to one side. The three of them after some discussion has decided it was best if they made the report to the clan lord, rather than involve Havez, Graug or Lethos who might not be taken seriously.

Sareth's heart for their work, to prove Arantir the murderer, had greatly if not completely diminished. All his attention now was on the realisation of his role in the machinations of the demon cultists. The knowledge of some darker nature lurking inside him brought up more questions than it answered but any interest in answering them was overshadowed by an intense self loathing that bubbled up through his very being.

Raelag leaned back in his chair and placed the book down on the desk in front of him next to the other pieces of damning evidence they had brought to him. The samples from the summoning platform used by Arantir to bring forth the Wight that killed Menelag was perhaps the most damaging to any claims the Necromancer might make of innocence.

When Raelag glanced up there was a profound look irritation in his expression.

"Alright." He began in a contemptuous tone. "Proud of yourselves now?" He stood up and paced back and forth, scowling.

"I bet you were all thinking that if you presented this to me I'd have no choice but to renounce any alliance I could make with Arantir and hunt him down."

Even Sareth was lured out of his gloom by the unexpected reaction in the clan lord. He was angry, even outraged that they had brought this to his attention.

"And you know what?" Raelag asked, slamming both hands down on his beautiful carved mahogany desk. The book and all other objects on the top bounced. "You'd be right! I can't ignore this." He slapped one hand down on the book. "The world above is going all to smash and I need an alliance with the Necromancers to at least stave off destruction but despite any of that I can not ignore this!!"

He was so angry his pale dark elf skin was actually beginning to turn a shade of red.

"Clan lord, my uncle was murdered by..," Leanna began in growing indignation but was cut off when Raelag glared her down savagely.

"I am well aware of that!" He was nearly spitting in rage. "This evidence is undeniably and proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that Arantir was secretly working to murder my other allies but if you had only held off presenting this to me I could have worked through the Heresh Council itself rather than through Arantir as a go between."

The was a moment of dumbfounded silence as the three of them stared at Raelag, only now beginning to comprehend the reasons for his anger and the political machinations that had been happening behind their backs.

Raelag, perhaps realising that he had said too much, straightened his back and look a long deep breath to calm himself.

"But any hope for that is now gone. If you haven't already heard, Arantir left the city about an hour ago."

"He what!?" Sareth asked, taking a step forward. Raelag frowned and titled his head to one side.

"He made some excuse about being recalled to Heresh by the council and left with all his retainers and guards." He eyed the collection of objects on the table with something closer to active dislike. "And now with all this slapped before me I can only assume that he was simply fleeing before I could detain him."

"You.. you have to go after him!" Leanna began in horrified alarm.

Raelag just shook his head.

"I already have Grim Riders out patrolling my clan's tunnels and caverns for his group. It won't do any good though; an hour's head start is all a skilled Necromancer like Arantir needs to avoid detection. My guess is he's already been picked up by some transportation from Heresh."

"You mean you're going to let him get away with it?" Sareth was so indignant he momentarily forgot his melancholia.

"And what do you suggest I do, Sareth?" The clan lord asked, eyeing him sidelong. "If I don't find him within the bounds of my own kingdom I have absolutely no authority to chase him into other kingdoms, especially NOT with the surface world on the brink of Total War!"

Sareth opened his mouth to answer but Raelag cut him off.

"When you run a country then you can lecture me about the finer points of law and diplomacy but until then you understand nothing about the political ramifications of pursuing those with Diplomatic immunity!"

Sareth stood there wide eyes, unable to think of any retort to the fuming clan lord. Did the leaders of states care nothing for justice? Did they allow criminals to get away with their heinous acts just because it was politically inconvenient for them to do anything about it?

Sareth took a step back, swallowing his pride. What right had he to condemn anyone?

"What's the matter with you anyway?" Raelag asked, looking him in the face with a scrutinizing glare. "You've been as glum as could` be imagined ever since you got here."

Sareth swallowed hard but said nothing, avoiding direct eye contact. There was only one thing he wanted to say. Only one question he wanted to ask. But he feared to. He feared to ask because he feared what the answer might be.

But to live in doubt, he realised all too quickly, was far worse.

"What am I?" He blurted out quickly so any lingering fears could not stop him. Beside him Leanna blinked and looked at him in confused astonishment. Xana pursed her lips tightly together and then did not look in his direction.

Raelag stared him down until Sareth was forced to look at him directly. The clan lord's expression was stern and emotionless.

After a moment of this oppressive silence Sareth felt the need to go on.

"I have felt it several times, deep within me... power beyond any magic." He said. "And I can feel it growing stronger, along with a savage impulsive side to me that I can feel even now. Its like the mind of some animal and it scares me!" Growing bolder he took a step forward. "That's why the cultists wanted me isn't it? I'm… I'm not human!"

He had been struggling towards that awful final conclusion ever since that terrible moment when he had perceived the true designs of the cultists for him. There could be no other explanation for all that was happening to him.

"You know don't you?" He stared into Raelag's eyes. "You knew why those cultists wanted me. You knew what they intended and why they needed me, I can see that now. You know what I am."

Raelag's expression did not chance but the look about his eyes was grave.

"Oh do I?" He asked with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Well then young man, if you are not human then tell me what you think you are."

Sareth floundered. When he did not speak Raelag glanced over at the startled Leanna.

"How much of your uncle's work did you tell him about?" He asked bluntly, even disapprovingly.

"All I knew." Leanna replied after she recovered enough to speak. "What little that was."

Raelag grunted with a scowl and then folded his arms behind his back. Frowning did not really do much for his complexion and the creased lines seemed to make him look a great deal older.

"Alright then." He began after a moment of rigid contemplation. Then he glanced around the room and his frown deepened. "But this conversation can take place somewhere without an audience."

The three of them glanced around in sudden surprise. The chamber they stood in was empty accept for Raelag and themselves.

"I did not invite you to ease drop Lethos." Raelag stated, gesturing to the far wall.

"Lethos?" Xana began looking back the way the clan lord has gestured. There was a short chuckling sound and stepping out seemingly from the wall itself was the dark elf poisoner. His face was creased by a large sardonic smile and he bowed to them all almost mockingly with a long sweep of his arm.

"Greetings one and all." He said still grinning. "I am willing to wager that you did not expect to see me here."

Xana grinned at him.

"Oh you have been a bad boy haven't you?" She asked with a raise eyebrow, her head cocked to one side.

"One does ones best." Lethos replied.

Leanna blinked in confusion.

"You.. you just walked through a solid wall." She gasped. "How did you do that?"

The dark elf tilted his head to one side and laughed.

"Perception is not always truth my dear." He said with a supercilious grin that spread from ear to ear. "Throughout Lord Raelag's stronghold are hidden doorways to spy runs in the walls. They're constructed as to be completely invisible from the outside. It involves the casting of light and the concealment of secret mirrors as to create the illusion of there being nothing there but a dull wall."

Raelag grunted and shook his head with a half amused sigh.

"Your theatrics more often than not become annoying, Lethos." The clan lord said disapprovingly. "You can't do anything without some boyish display can you?"

"Oh my apologies Father." Lethos' grin widened to show his teeth. "It's that I'm so flamboyant that I simply can't help by show off."

Sareth was stunned.

"Father?!" He stuttered as the two girls either side of them looked at Lethos with wide astonished eyed.

"Oh did I not mention that?" Lethos asked in feigned innocence, tapping onside of his face with a finger. "Oh dear how forgetful of me." He walked past them to the side of the table. "Allow me to introduce my adopted Father, Clan lord Raelag and ruler of Ygg-chall."

Sareth's mind worked fast and suddenly he connected the dots. He knew that Lethos was a professional spy and assassin but had never considered their chance meeting in the baths to be anything but that. Now the subterfuge behind it all was more than plain.

"You were sent to spy on me." He said and he could not keep the accusatory note out of his voice. "You were there just to keep me in line."

At that Lethos actually looked offended.

"Sareth, please… do you know me so little?" He asked. "Do you believe for a moment that I am so devoid of integrity, brother mine?" He swung his hands wide. "I was looking after you, a stead fast dependable guardian."

Sareth shook his head from side to side as if to clear his muffled and confused brain. Was nothing as it seemed?

"Well now since you're here anyway..." Raelag began still frowning. "Are there any other spies listening to us?"

"Oh there were." Lethos said with a chuckle to his lips. "But they're taking a nap right now." He tapped the side of his belt where he kept the pouch that carried his various chemicals, concoctions and poisons. No doubt along with any lethal substances he carried a few drafts capable of putting any inconvenient people to sleep.

Raelag nodded approvingly.

"Very good." He said. "Then perhaps now is the time for a few explanations."

Sareth glanced up in sudden alert stance, pushing any duplicity on Lethos' part to the back of his mind to be dealt with at a more appropriate time. This took full priority right now.

Raelag took a deep breath and rolled his eyes as if he wondered where to start, his lips pursed together thoughtfully.

"Alright." He began. "If you must know Sareth, no you are not completely human." A raised hand cut off anything Sareth might have said when he opened his mouth. "Let me speak and then when I am finished you may ask questions." His stern glare forced the young mans mouth shut.

"As much as I understand about this, you are a hybrid."

"Hybrid?" Leanna asked with a furrowed, puzzled brow. Beside her, Xana's face had paled slightly and she remained silent.

"Everyone is a mixture you see... half of them comes from their mother and half comes from their father." Raelag explained, sitting back down in his chair. "We inherit characteristics from our parents, hair and eye colour, height, weight, even in some cases hereditary diseases." He looked at Sareth across fingers that he knitted together across his face. "You might take some comfort in the fact that you take more after the human parent."

The young man stared at him unblinking, unable to absorb what Raelag was insinuating. Everyone was looking at him as if waiting for him to speak. Leanna looked just as stunned as he himself felt, clearly if her uncle had known anything of this nature he had not divulged it to her. Lethos had a thoughtful and quizzical expression and appeared more puzzled than shocked.

Xana was quiet, her expression forcibly neutral but her skin did appear quite pale.

Sareth swallowed hard to clear his throat.

"If what you say is true…" He began in a trembling voice. He paused and tried again, a little more confidently this time "If what you say is true then I… I was never Phenrig's student… I was his experiment!"

Raelag looked off to one side and grunted.

"In a manner of speaking." He replied. "Menelag was my 'inside' man in the cult, but he died before he could bring me any more useful information than this." He turned to Leanna. "Forgive me, but your uncle was a fine man doing good work to route out a nest of vipers. I only wish that he could have carried on. I could really use his help and advice."

Leanna managed a nod but the tightening around her eyes told of the pain she still felt for the loss of the only father figure in her life.

"But if only half of me in human…" Sareth asked slowly. "… then what is my other half?"

"I don't have enough evidence to say for sure." The clan lord sighed. "And it would be an exceptional mistake to assume anything, although I can make a few educated guesses.

"You're evading the question." The young man accused with a frown.

"Your damn right I am." Raelag replied. "I am not net prepared to divulge my speculations to anyone. For the moment I have told you all I know for a fact, which as you can see is surprisingly little. The question right now is what are you going to do about it?"

Sareth gritted his teeth, trying desperately to let his anger not boil out of him again.

"What in the name of Sheogh can I to do about it?" He asked. "No matter how desperately I may want to do so I can't change where I came from! No power in the world can change that! I…"

"…are what you are?" Leanna asked, finishing the sentence when he faltered. She was smiling at him fondly and with understanding in her eyes. Sareth glanced at her for a moment before his expression softened and he took a deep breath.

"Yes." He agreed. "I am what I am."

Strangely, saying that made him feel a great deal better. He may fear the animalistic side of him that he knew now dwelt inside of him but what point was there in wallowing in misery over something that he could not change? If this was his heritage than he was stuck with it.

Raelag actually looked a bit surprised by this, mouth open slightly and eyes wide. He blinked a few times and then cleared his throat to cover his momentary confusion.

"Well said." He eventually decided but there was a disturbed quality to his tone that made Sareth look around at him again. "But this does lead me around to the proposal that I have been meaning to ask of you for some time."

"Proposal?" Sareth repeated.

"The Demon Cultists have been a cancer in Ashan for longer than you could ever know." The clan lord told him. "Their machinations led to some of the most horrific events in the history of this world. The ancient wars of fire with the Falcon Empire, the War of the Grey alliance…"

"The Night of burning tears." Lethos added dryly.

Sareth remembered Wyngaal had talked about this event in the history of the Sylvan people, of how the mother tree Brythigga had been burned by a demon summoned by the cultists and how the blame for this act had been placed on the Dark Elves.

"They have caused much suffering." Raelag spat. "And all in the name of their master, Kha Beleth."

Kha Beleth, the Demon Sovereign. Ancient and powerful, the reputed Avatar of Urgash itself, mothers told stories to frighten their children into obedience of this monstrous being. If they did not behave then the Sovereign would get them.

"I am not the only one who seeks to cut this cancer from the heart of our world." Raelag went on. "But I my allies are far flung and scattered. I am in need of strong, skill and well trained agents to seek them out and thwart their plans." He looked directly at Sareth, his eyes questioning. "To be blunt, I want you for this agent Sareth. Your skill with magic and… other powers, are growing at a rate that would make you a formidable opponent for even the most powerful chaos mage."

"And surely you would want to pay them back for what they put you through?" Lethos added with an ironic smile. "To turn their 'experiment' against them."

Sareth was silent for a long moment and no one dared to speak. His head was down and nobody could see his face.

"And…" he added just when the silence reached unbearable proportions. "To ensure that they never do anything like it to anyone ever again." There was the strange, perhaps uncharacteristic, firmness in his voice which made Xana look at him with an odd expression on her face.

It was a mixture of pride, and fear.

"Very good." Raelag said, sounding very satisfied. "Then we begin your training in the control of elemental chains…"

Before he could finish, Sareth leaned one shoulder down and let the sheath of the Dragon Tongue Blade slide off. He caught it by the sheath and then with placed it down firmly on the desk in front of the clan lord.

"I will help you but If you can speak with Malassa..." He pushed the sword across to him. "… then give her this back."

Raelag looked taken aback, as did everyone else Xana included. Sareth set his face into stern lines and pressed the sword forward.

"You would reject Malassa's gift?" The clan lord asked after he managed to regain himself. "Why?"

Sareth took a breath.

"Because I can't be trusted with it." He replied as frankly as possible. "Its power is too intoxicating. I can't control myself when it's in my hands."

Raelag looked between him and the sword several times, his expression gradually changing from one of shock to grim disapproval and then once again, surprisingly, to one of reluctant understanding.

"Your decision does you credit." He said. "That you tasted power and then offered it up shows that despite everything, you still cling to the essence of your humanity."

But he offered the sword back to him, lowering it back into Sareth's hands and then closing them over it.

"However, you were offered this sword by Malassa herself. Gods do not do things without reasons and they see much more in people than ordinary men. I do not believe that she was ignorant of your nature and that she knew what she was doing by giving you this sword."

Sareth looked at him incredulously.

"Sareth you must not run from this." Raelag's face and tone suddenly went grim again. "You must not fear the power within you. If you let fear consume you, you will never be able to master it. Control, discipline and concentration… with these you can keep whatever beast you feel is within you on a short leash."

Sareth looked him in the eye for a moment but then glanced away, looking back over his shoulder to the others. The three of them stood there looking expectedly at him, each with a unique expression on their faces, a combination of confidence and faith in him. Each of them returned his gaze with one of their own, telling him that they would support him whatever decision he made.

Xana's expression said more, that she would be at his side even in the worst of times.

Fuelled by such belief in him, Sareth gripped the sword tightly and nodded once.

"If you all think I can."

"Excellent." Raelag declared and clapped his hands once. From the far end of the study came the sound of deep, resonating thudding footsteps.

"Oh no…" Lethos began apprehensively.

The creature that entered has to duck its massive head in order to fit through the stone doorway. It was definitely a Minotaur as the shape of a human with bull like features was far too clear, but it towered above the others by a good two feet. Its chest and shoulders were all muscle, covered by a thin layer of chestnut coloured fur. Over his side barrel chest was a thick plate of steel, strapped in place by chains that spread over the shoulders and down the back.

The muscle over his mouth and nose was more like a helmet, with protective plates curving back over the neck and horns. Bracers of the same, thick material were strapped over the muscular forearms.

"You summoned me, my lord?" The Minotaur asked, sinking down to one knee, an action with nearly knocked the surprised Leanna over.

"May I introduce my taskmaster, Adrastos." Raelag said by way of introduction, gesturing to the huge Minotaur.

Sareth was taken aback by the creature's massive presence. The hydra he had escaped from had been much bigger but to his mind it had been a force of nature and so vicious that he had hardly ever stopped to consider it a living thing. Close up to this minotaur that illusion was impossible and he tried desperately not to be intimidated by the forearms which, he was quite sure, were capable of ripping a man in two.

"Your training starts as of now." Raelag went on with a strange, almost cruel grin spreading across his face. "As you're not young children you'll need to be brought up to speed rather quickly. Adrastos here is the best at advancing older students in magic training rather quickly. I'm sure you'll study diligently under him until you are ready to receive instruction from me directly."

"I will do my best to hurry them along, my lord." Adrastos replied and Sareth heard Lethos audibly gulp.


	16. Part 3, chapter 15

(Note: I had no original intention of going on with this story but I had so many pleading reviews that I've decided to warm to this subject again and hit you all with a Super Brit character for badgering me. So there!")

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Havez squinted up at the sunlight directly overhead, frowned and then casually knocked back the rest of the tankard he was holding in his left hand. With a shrug he turned his attention back to the pack train directly before them. The trail of donkeys and mules trudged through the dirt path sedately. Dragging the caravan behind them with the mournful found of clanging bells.

The leaves on the trees around them were golden, some brown and others a deep blood red. Many carpeted the floor of the woods, others drifting down to join them. For autumn the day was hot and they all rode without the woollen clothes they had brought with them.

"Anyone for some nice fresh Mead or Alex?" The wizard asked factiously, looking back over his shoulder at the others.

He was the only one of their party so relaxed. Everyone else, Xana excluded who seemed not to be bothered, was wearing a thick white strip of clothes to shield their eyes from the light of day.

After so long in the dark tunnels of Ygg-chall, learning the magic of the elements from Raelag the light of the sun hurt their eyes badly. Two years had past since Sareth had fled into the tunnels to escape the cultists and now that he was approaching his twentieth birthday, he had decided to indulge himself and grow a short beard. Xana said she found it made him look distinguished while Leanna had voiced the opinion that it gave him the appearance of a disreputable pirate.

In point of fact Sareth was grow thing a beard not for any sense of style, but because he wanted to alter his appearance enough so any member of the demon cult that saw him might think him someone else at first glance.

Lethos shot Havez a glare from the back of his own ride, not a horse but one of the strange reptilian creatures that the dark elves rode in place of them. It was a sedate beast with pale green scales and it plodded along either side of the caravan without even looking at the mules. They however kept their eyes on it in case it decided that they might indeed be something worth eating.

"You're destroying your liver." The dark elf commented dryly, adjusting his own blindfold. The binds were not so thick that they could see through them but they blocked out most of the painful light. It would take them a while, Leanna had assured them, but their eyes would readjust to normal light again.

"Possibly." Havez replied with a grin. "But it is MY liver. So I'll leave yours to you and you leave mine to me if you please." He reached back for another bottle to fill his tankard, the glass rattling in a small crate behind him.

Their company was larger then when they had arrived. Sareth rode on the caravan itself along with Xana and Leanna, while Havez drove the caravan and Lethos rode along side.

The gremlin, Graug, who had for some reason chosen the most bad tempered mule they had for a ride, had rode off down the road to scout ahead.

Behind them, trudging along with his thick armour clanking, was their teacher Adrastos the minotaur.

Outside the confining tunnels of Ygg-chal they could all appreciate how massive he truly was, his muscle bulging under his short brown fur. The training he had put them through to learn even the basics of elemental mastery had been brutal and there had been times when Sareth had actually thought he meant to kill them. He had discharged fireballs, lightning bolts, frost balls, eldritch arrows and all other manner of magical attacks at them and combined that with his own skills with wielding his two massive axes which he now had clung in a cross over his back.

Sareth had been at an advantage during those sessions as he had been a recently graduated mage and was able to pick up enough to avoid anything more then a few cuts and bruises. Leanna did well too and while Xana seemed slow to learn magic she picked it up soon.

Lethos was the one who suffered the most from the training, being battered back and forth like a rag doll almost each and every day. The dark elf took it without rancour and actually seemed cheerful throughout, even though several times a week he was dizzy and confused from a blow their training master had dealt him.

Sareth was not in a position to comment on the effectiveness of the training methods but regardless of their pumps and bruises they were now proficient in elemental magic, able to deflect magic away depending on the element cast at them.

As soon as Adrastos had grudgingly announced them adequate, Raelag had given them a mission; to further his goal in rooting out the demon cult.

"It's called a Shantiri crystal." The lord of the Shadowbrand had told them, unrolling a scroll and laid it out on the table in front of him, placing decanters and candles to hold it down. In a very fine, almost spidery hand was a diagram of a large object about a foot long. It was a shard with two jagged points at the top and bottom, thickening only slightly in the middle.

"I read about them." Leanna had added, looking over the display. "My uncle used to write theoretical papers for the Silver cities high council."

Sareth, whose blank confused expression must have told them of his total ignorance on the subject, had to be briefly educated.

"They are crystals reportedly used by the great, ancient wizard Sar-Elam." Raelag said, tapping the picture with one finger. "According to legend there were three such crystals that he shared between his two disciples, Sar-Issus and Sar Shazzar. With the three crystals in the hands of the three wizards there they near invincible in magical might."

Sareth wondered why he had not heard of such a thing during his education under Phenrig, but only frowned when he realised it was yet another thing his former master had not told him.

"I thought they were merely legends." Lethos said.

"We can glad most of the world things so." Raelag replied. "Unfortunately these three artefacts are very real and even worse I have reason to believe that both the Demon cult and Arantir are pursuing them."

That got their immediate attention. Even throughout their studies none of them had forgotten that they had a score to settle with the Necromancer for the role he played in the death of Leanna's uncle, the sorcerer Menelag.

"Arantir talked of the crystals when he was here." Raelag went on. "And after he departed I had his statehouse examined and I found various texts on the subject. Additionally the outer, frontier clans like the Soulscar have been making inquires about them as well. Since the Soulscar are confirmed allies of the demon cultists I can only draw the conclusion that this is a race between the necromancers and the cultists to acquire them."

"To what purpose?" Lethos asked, shrewder then the rest of them. "What good would these crystals do any of them if they only worked in the presence of those three long dead wizards?"

Raelag shook his head with a frown.

"I don't know." He admitted. Sareth's mind raced back to that abortive break in to Arantir's mansion and that book he had read, that mention of something called the 'Skull of Shadows' and began to wonder if Raelag was telling them all he knew. "But I do not wish to risk finding out the hard way. If we can claim one crystal then we may see where matters stand."

Leanna was surprised.

"You know where one is?" She asked with her eyes wide. Raelag nodded and then turned to face a large map across the back of his chamber wall. It showed all of Ashan in brilliant detail. Sareth frowned at the sight of the borders of the Griffin Empire which had greatly expanded since he had come to Ygg-chal. The free holdings on the border of Irollan where he had grown up were now claimed by the empire, along with a sizeable chunk in the east.

"I still cringe at the price such information cost me." Raelag began as he looked up. "But I have learned that one of these crystals has been unearthed in the deep mines of the Winterwind clan of Grimheim."

Far to the north of the lands of the human nations was a jagged and twisted peninsula that jutted out almost to the frozen arctic. This was Grimheim, a frozen cold land and the fiercely protected territory of the Dwarves.

Phenrig had given Sareth at least a decent education about the short statured race, including their customs, believes and traditions.

"You don't want us to go get it do you?" Lethos asked, suddenly looking apprehensive as well he might. The Dark elves were at war with the dwarves along the frontier of the northern caverns and any Dark elf that set foot in their territory, even for honest reasons, was at risk of reprisals from patriotic dwarves. As it was his fears were quickly realised.

"Yes, my pupil that is precisely what I want you to do." Raelag confirmed with a savage, evil grin at Lethos evident dismay. "I want you to travel to Grimheim, go down into those mines and retrieve the crystal. Return it here to me if you cant but if circumstances are not ideal you are to destroy it."

And so that was that. Departing from the caverns for the first time in years, Sareth began his first mission against the demon cults activities.

Adrastos had been sent along with them as a bodyguard and to bolster their cover story of being a band of prosperous travelling traders from Talonguard.

As for the wizard Havez and his gremlin companion, their participation in this mission had been made necessary by the fact that they were the only ones with a pack train willing to go to Grimheim in Ygg-chall. Most dark elf merchants were not willing to venture about ground until the current unrest in the Griffin Empire had died down.

Their caravan came up to a crossroads and Graug was waiting for them there, sitting leisurely on his donkeys back by a signpost. His animal looked haggard as if he had run a long way.

"Into the ale already?" He asked as Havez drew the mule train to a stop. "You might have at least waited for me until you broke open a bottle." The little reptilian creature sounded injured.

"It's quite a hot day for autumn." Havez remarked, pulling his orange turban down to shade his eyes. It was the only thing he was using to protect his eyesight. "And I got thirsty."

Graug frowned and made a 'gimmie gimmie' gesture. Havez tossed him a bottle and the gremlin drank gustily from it, paused to belch and then threw the bottle into the long grass at the side of the road.

"What is on ahead?" Adrastos asked, striding up alongside the caravan. His voice echoed inside his solid steel muzzle. Standing next to him, Sareth saw with some amusement that Graug was about the size of the Minotaur's hand.

"We're about ten leagues from Horncrest." The gremlin replied, deliberately trying not to look at the massive creature. Sareth got the impression that he was not at all comfortable in the minotaur's presence. He did not blame him if he was, he himself was apprehensive around their strict and brutal training master. "If we carry on all day we should make it by nightfall."

Lethos reached back for the satchel on the side of his beasts mount and pulled out his map. Getting down off his ride he came over to the caravan and laid it down on the wooden surface, pulling up his blindfold and shielding his eyes with his hand while he looked at it.

They had been travelling for a week now since they had left the caverns and had travelled north for some distance with only a vague idea of where they were.

"We're getting closer." Leanna said; pointing to a settlement marked 'Horncrest'. It was the town they had been aiming to reach, a garrison settlement nearly directly on the border with Grimheim. As the dwarves had sealed all the underworld entrances to their domain, approaching it by land was their only option.

"We've got a problem though." Graug warned them seriously. "There are soldiers camped all around the city, a large Imperial army." All of them turned to look at him sharply and the gremlin shrugged. "I'm no judge to military operations but they look like they mean business. I saw griffins amongst the men too."

This was bad news. Griffins were powerful beasts that the empire only used if they were planning to do battle with some major force.

"They're not planning on going to war with the Dwarves are they?" Leanna asked, looking puzzled. Xana stayed quiet, looking thoughtful and grim but not at all surprised. Sareth looked at her out of the corner of her eye.

"Why don't you ask them?" Graug replied back with a grin. "I'm sure they'd be willing to let their plans be known to curious person who passes by."

Adrastos, who had ignored the banter, looked up from the map towards the trail leading north east. He snorted and scratched at one armpit.

"Is the city until control by the army?" He asked.

"Not that I could see. They weren't keeping the regular travelling out of the gates at any rate."

"Then we should just travel on to the city and see what's happening." Lethos suggested. "If they're stopping people from crossing the border then we can find another way around then."

"And if they decide they want to mess with us?" Havez asked sceptically. The wizard seemed to have a somewhat pessimistic outlook on most situations. Lethos grinned evilly at him and drummed his fingers.

"I have a few potions that will make a sudden death look quite natural." Even after learning some magic the dark elf assassin retained more faith in his poisons.

Adrastos waved a large hand dismissively.

"It would be best to avoid fighting whenever possible."

When they started out again, Havez rode in the wagon while Leanna took her turn to drive the pack train. This left Sareth alone in the back with Xana.

"Are you alright?" He asked in a low voice. The young woman started as if caught in a day dream and forced herself to look more alert.

"I am fine." She said but there was a hint of fear in her voice that after so long he had known her he could not miss. He stared her down and in the direct path of his steady gaze she relented.

"I feel it drawing closer." She said in almost a whisper.

"What?"

"My punishment."

"Punishment?"

She looked up at him.

"I disobeyed them… I disobeyed Him. These last two years have been a reprieve for me, nothing more. It's only a matter of time until they come for me."

Sareth had never pressed this matter before but not he felt he must.

"Who will come for you?" He asked, leaning forward intently. Her dark eyes met his and she trembled.

"Him Sareth… him. Don't make me say his name."

Over the past two years Sareth had done all he could to learn about the subject of demonology from Raelag and when Xana, a sprit creature bound to serve the cultists said… him… there could be only one person she was referring to.

He leaned back and ran a hand over his face. Even he did not want to say that name.

"I won't let him get you Xana." He said firmly. "He will have to come to me first."

She looked back at him with something very much like pity in her eyes but also gratitude and affection.

"Dear Sareth." She said. "You he will not destroy… he needs you. But you can not protect me. The only thing that stops me from being snuffed out like a candles flame is his preoccupation with other matters. As soon as his attention falls on me I will be undone."

As if seeking reassurance she held out her hand almost unconsciously and he held it tightly in his own.

They rode on for several hours in contemplative silence, putting the woods behind and riding out into farm land. It was harvest time and many men were out in the fields. Sareth paused as he watched them and then realised his mistake. The workers in the fields only looked like men from a distance.

As they drew nearer he saw them for what they really were, Orcs.

They were just as his studies had told him. They were tall, heavily build and orange skinned, their shade varying from a deep yellow to almost blood red and they had patched of darker skin all over their bodies.

Others were smaller, smaller even then a human child and wiry build. They had large ears on either side of almost tiny heads. These Sareth recognised too as Goblins and Graug made a special point of not looking at them as he rode by.

All the workers looked hallow cheeked and scrawny. They were dirty and gaunt and an atmosphere of broken spirits hung around them. Peasants in red smokes marched between the fields overseeing the work and occasionally some of them paused to stick a cruel pike they carried into any of the Orcs or Goblins they seemed to think not working hard enough. The clinging of chains binding the ankles of the slaves were audible even from that distance.

The Empire was wildly regarded outside its domain of being a hypocrite for preaching the justice of Elrath while at the same time capturing other sentient creatures and forcing them to work in the mines and fields. The entire Imperial economy was propped up on the backbones of such coerced servitude.

They carried on through the fields trying not to look.

When an Orc on the other side of a wooden fence turned to look at them, Adrastos met his gaze. The two of them stopped to stare at each other in grim silence and something seemed to pass between them, the kind of recognition shared between beings forced to serve others.

The Orc grunted and then turned to get back to work and the Minotaur carried on tocatch up with the others.

As the sun was setting they caught sight of the city of Horncrest. By now the light was dim enough that they could remove their blindfolds.

In and of itself, the city was not anything that special. It was a fairy standard farming community with a castle to garrison it against attack. What made it stand out was the massive military encampment surrounding the walls, just as Graug had described. Hundreds of tents were pitched in rows leading off for perhaps half a mile and there was a great many men walking amongst them, sunlight glinting off armour.

Stacked here and there were the bundles of lumber that eventually would be put together to form siege weapons.

Sareth judged their numbers to be perhaps over ten thousand strong. Past the encampment and the city were two sheer granite cliffs rising on either side of mountain ranges that were only just visible through the fading light of day. A calley ran between these cliffs and barring it was a massive wall; rising near as high as the cliffs themselves.

"The Red Stone wall of Arkath." Lethos commented slummy, gesturing to it with a nod of his head. "The fortress that defends the only above ground way of entering the lands of the Dwarves."

Sareth stared at the impossible large wall and then at the army below and could not help but feel uneasy, as if a clash was imminent and unavoidable.

"Let's get into the city then." Lethos suggested. "Before someone decides to conscript us."

Slowly they began down the dusty lane leading towards the city gates.

"Tally ho!" The silence they had endured was shattered by that loud exclamation and Sareth looked up in alarm, just in time to throw himself and Xana flat as a ballista bolt came wising through the air to fly directly over their heads and crash with a defending crunch into an unoffending tree.

The mules and donkeys bleated in alarm and it took the combined efforts of Havez and Leanna to calm them.

Adrastos snarled in enraged fury and reached back over his shoulder, taking a hold of one massive axe in his hand.

"Stand down there!" Sareth struggled back up to see that riding towards them from the encampment were several men on horseback. Most of them were paladins, men in gleaming armour of steel and gold with mounted eagles atop their helmets.

Their leader wore somewhat less extravagant and more practical armour and had no helmet. His head was chestnut down and long to his shoulders; tied back into a pony tail.

He reigned in before their wagon.

"Terrible sorry dear chaps." He said apologetically, seeing how distressed they were. His paladins moved to put themselves between him and the clearly still enraged Minotaur. "Just trying a shot on my new ballista but it went wide. Should never had fired off the thing with travellers about, wot wot."

His method of speech was so quick and eccentric Sareth almost did not follow it. Close up he could see the red sash that identified the man as a noble of high rank.

"No no its fine." Leanna said, acting quicker then the rest of them. "We were just startled is all."

"Startled!" Graug asked in a strangled voice. "We could have been killed!" The gremlin was kicked to one side by Havez. The stranger squinted at each of them in turn.

"Blimey, you're all an odd bunch and a half." He remarked with a strange sort of smile and then he rubbed his gloved hands. "Tell you what, why don't I make it up to the lot of you? You all look tired and travel stained. Come on down and let you share my pavilion for the night."

Leanna hesitated and glanced back to the others.

"Oh damn my eyes, where are my manners?" The man smacked a hand into his forehead. "Can't just offer that without making introductions. Duke Vittorio the 3rd at your service." He offered his hand and Leanna shook his for them.

"We're travelling merchants of the Ashan trading consortium." Lethos put in, offering forward their cover story. "I'm Sothel, overseer of this modest troupe."

"Ruddy good show old chaps." Duke Vittorio said with a grin shaking the dark elves hand in turn. "Always liked you traveller types, going whither and yon to sell your wares. Adventures in foreign lands and all that."

Adrastos looked the duke up and down and then slowly slide his axe back into his place on his back, apparently finally satisfied that they were not attacked on purpose. In fact Vittorio seemed eager to please and placate them for the accident. Past him Sareth could see the ballista in question, a rather large assembly of ropes and wood shaped like a cross bow. It was on the edge of the encampment some distance away. Then the young man glanced back over his shoulder at the tree and saw that the ballista bolt was stuck right through the truck, limbs and large pieces of bark lying scattered in all directions.

The range of the weapon had to prodigious in order to make that sort of damage at this distance.

"Well my lord, your offer is most generous and gracious." Leanna began.

"Splendid!" Vittorio cut her off without seeming to even realise he was doing it, turning his horse around. "I'll have the tea steaming hot for the whole bally lot of you and we can share all the gossip of the road."

Before any of them could argue, the paladins moves to flank them and escort them down towards the encampment.

"Well we might get better information about crossing the border with him." Lethos remarked in a whisper to the rest of them. "I can always slip him something in his food to make him forget we're even there."

So they resigned themselves and were guided down towards the tents and the enveloping Imperial army by the eccentric duke.

"What's tea?" Sareth asked in a whisper to Graug. The gremlin's ears drooped as a depressed expression crossed his face.

"Not worth drinking." He replied dismally.


	17. Part 4, chapter 16

Part 4

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(Freyda)

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Chapter 16

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The pavilion of Duke Vittorio was a very large tent lavishly furnished with mahogany wood tables and chairs placed on top of an expensive looking thick red carpet. There were stacks of fruits and savoury treats laid on silver trays all around, intermixed with maps and diagrams of various types of siege weaponry.

Apparently the duke believed in travelling in style and since he clearly had the money to afford it, Sareth wondered why not.

There were quite a few people inside the pavilion already, a few servants that stood to attention as the Duke entered but also men in less formal clothes were there talking with each other in hushed whispers over the diagrams and designs. They all wore canvas aprons and some had goggles on. Sareth took them to be siege weapon engineers.

As the sun dipped low on the horizon lanterns were being hung around the tent to illuminate it, while the rest of the Imperial encampment had to make do with simple burning torches.

"Excellent blend of leaves in this brew." Vittorio said; pouring a dark liquid that steamed hot in the early night air into several cups.

This was the first time Sareth had ever tasted tea. It was a rarity that could only be afforded by the richest families around the Imperial capital of Talonguard. It tasted strange in his inexperienced mouth and while he drained the whole cup to be polite, it rolled the hot liquid around in his mouth to make up his mind whether or not he liked it.

"I must say I wasn't expecting to run into a military operation on our northern trade route." Lethos was saying to the duke as he gestured for them all to take seats. Being so large that his horns grazed the ceiling of the pavilion, Adrastos sank down onto the floor with a loud thump.

"And if I had any choice in the matter, I wouldn't be here with them either." Vittorio remarked with a smile, holding the cup of tea in front of his nose to let the aroma waft up to his nose. "Ah but such is the price of the benefits of citizenship in the Empire. My time is not my own and I must be go to war when ordered to by the Queen."

Lethos blinked and rubbed his chin, giving the man a thoughtful gaze.

"War? I haven't heard anything that significant while in the south." Knowing Lethos' mannerisms, Sareth saw immediately that the dark elf was probing their host for information.

"Up to more it's been more or less an internal matter." The duke replied. "After the war with the demon incursion ended twenty years ago, there were a lot of demon cultists and necromancer sleepers left strewn across the empire. They were stirring up trouble everywhere, fermenting riots, protests against the church of Elrath." He shook his head dismissively.

"That would never do. I don't agree with the recent church on theological matters but the faith is the core of Imperial society. Can't have peasants attacking it, it would disrupt the entire kingdom. So Queen … or I should rather now say, Saint Isabel ordered out the Imperial army to quell these rebellions and thus here I am." He sighed and then drank from his cup.

"On the Dwarven border?" Havez asked sceptically with a raised eyebrow. "The queen of the Griffin Empire cares this much about what some bumpkins on the frontier say?"

The duke looked up at him.

"Oh hardly." He said. "Our business here is much more important then that. I suppose being in the south you had not heard?"

The group looked at him blankly and so he continued.

"Prince Andrei, cousin of the deceased King Nicolai, Elrath watch his soul, has been kidnapped by a rogue nobleman; a disreputable fellow called Duncan Falcon."

Sareth frowned. He had heard of Duncan Falcon before. There were few in the free city states who had not for his commercial enterprises stretched from Irollan down to the Silver cities, delivering trade goods from north to south and there were few merchants in the west of Ashan who did not praise his name.

He was also a partisan, fiercely loyal to the Empire especially to the memory of the late king Nicolai. It seemed absurd that he, of all people, would kidnap one of the royal family.

"We chased him all the way to the border." Vittorio was saying. "But alas he managed to slip across into Grimheim where he had allies amongst the dwarves of the Winterwind clan."

Lethos frowned in response. This was a deep complication to their own mission to recover the Shantiri crystal and the same gloomy thought was reflected in everyone's faces.

With a diplomatic standout between the Griffin Empire and the Kingdom under the Mountain it would be near impossible to get across the border let alone be allowed to conduct their business without being rigorously observed, and that was the best case scenario. If worse came to worse they might end up in the middle of a border war.

Vittorio looked around at them, apparently sensing their dismay.

"Is something amiss, dear chaps?" He asked.

"Oh this complicates our arrangement with the dwarves." Lethos said, quickly spinning a story for the duke's benefit. "We have a pack train full of Silver city spirits expected at Tor Hrall. If I'd had news of this situation earlier I would have delayed the departure of my goods by a few months to avoid the trouble." Clearly he had picked that destination as it was the largest border garrison of the Winterwind clan, the clan mentioned as Duncan's place of refuge and the clan that according to Raelag had the Shantiri crystal.

The duke frowned and looked at the dark elf thoughtfully, then around at the others each in turn.

"Tor Hrall you say?" He asked. "Well well… perhaps we might be able to come to an arrangement."

Lethos looked at him, smiling with a feigned look of polite but uncomprehending attention.

"We're due to send a diplomatic envoy to Tor Hrall tomorrow to negotiate for the Prince' safe return and it would sweeten the dwarves to our presence if we came bearing them a gift, say of a trade caravan bearing liquor."

Lethos laughed.

"The dwarves would swear loyalty to anyone who brought them either gold, jewels or beer."

Vittorio laughed and then rose from his seat.

"I'll have a word with the commanders and see what they have to say to the notion. Do make yourselves at home while I'm gone."

With that he marched from the tent, leaving two armed guards standing outside the flap.

"Are you sure this is wise?" Leanna asked, leaning forward to whisper. "I thought we wanted a low profile and being part of such an important delegation is hardly that."

"Actually girlie, it's perfect." Graug commented with a malicious smile, scratching one of his large ears. "I know how dwarves think. They'll be too distracted by this silly conference to care about what those handing them liquor will be doing."

Havez nodded his agreement, his arms folded over his chest.

"And drunken dwarves are an excellent source of local gossip." The mage added.

"Plus, I can season what they drink with an extract of a certain herb that grows in Irollan. They won't have any choice but to tell us the truth no matter what question we ask them."

"Ooh that's devilishly slick." Xana commented with approval.

"Do not be overconfident." The Minotaur sitting behind them all like a giant windbreak said, the chains of his manacles rattling as he shifted his weight. "The dwarves are jealous guardians of their treasures and they are known for doing extremely unpleasant things to the thieves they catch."

Lethos straightened, looming grim. Being a dark elf, a people who had been at war with the dwarves for control of the underworld, he took the reminder more to heart then the rest of them.

A few minutes later Vittorio returned, pushing his way back into the tent.

"Most of them thought it was a good idea." He said. "But they'd like to talk to a few representatives of your group first."

Lethos stood up.

"Of course." He looked at Sareth. "Coming Leon?" It took Sareth a moment to recognise his assumed name for this mission and stood up.

"Don't think I won't be listening." Xana's voice told him through the silent vaults of his mind, her expression as she looked at him stern. He flashed a grin back at her and follows Lethos and the duke out of the pavilion.

As Vittorio led them through the encampment, Sareth took the opportunity to glance around too see for the first time an Imperial army close up. The signs of discipline were everywhere in the crisp and precise way the men executed their tasks, often without the need for armour officers to be attending to it.

There seemed to be two types of troops training alongside each other, which definitely seemed odd. Half of the army wore white robes over their armour while the other half wore red and there were quite a few glances being exchanged between the two factions; especially by the priests who seemed just as divided.

The tent of the armies generals was larger then Vittorio's but also far less furbished, space given over to charts, supplies and many parchment scrolls piled up in places. There was a large table in the centre of the tent littered with maps and over this the generals of the army, if that was who they were, were arguing.

"Talking talking, always talking!" The nearest snapped, glaring across the table as they entered. "We are at the spear point of Imperial army. Why do we need to talk to anyone?"

He was a large man, glad in steel armour with a red cape trailing down under his shoulder pads to hang by his calves. His hair was so close cropped he was almost bald and the left hand side of his face ran a twisting black scar that ran over one eye.

"Several reasons Laszlo." The woman at the far end of the table told him. "Firstly, because it's the right thing to do. Secondly, you are proposing first a siege of the wall of Arkath and then a direct assault on Tor Hrall, the strongest frontier garrison. We simply don't enough troops for that."

She was tall as wall but still a head and shoulders shorter then this Laszlo fellow, clad in silvery armour that covered her entire body down to the feet. Her shoulder pads were fashioned into the likeness of unicorns, the horns sticking out to either side. She was fair skinned, her eyes a bright green and her long hair was a bright chestnut brown.

"While I share your sentiments Laszlo, Freyda does have a point." The third one at the table put in. "Saint Isabel will not thank us for throwing her army away without a reasonable hope of victory."

"Sareth!" Xana's voice cracked silently in his mind. "Be careful of that one, I sense a dark aura around him."

Sareth tried to study the man while pretending to be doing nothing of the sort.

He was shorter then either of the other generals but more stout. He wore armour too but limited it to a breast plate and shoulder pads. For the most part he wore that same regal red robe those troops and priests outside wore, styled to affect a more ecclesiastic appearance and embroidered with golden designs down two labels that ran down his front.

His face as angular and jagged as if carved out of marble and his hair was blonde and very long, hanging down to his waist.

Sareth could not sense any magic nimbus which usually hummed around mages of great talent but there was something else, a sort of cold sensation that ran down his spine every time he looked at the man.

His eyes were cold and there was in them that same, unmistakable sign of mercilessness that Sareth had seen before in the eyes of those demon cultists so long ago now.

Laszlo glared at the man for disagreeing but said nothing, grumbling under his breath in obvious irritation.

The woman, Freyda, looked up to see them enter and smiled.

"These must be the traders you were telling me about, Vittorio." She said and the two men turned to look at those who had just entered.

"Allow me to introduce Sothel and Leon of the Ashan trading consortium." The duke said, gesturing for the two of them to step forward.

"Never heard of it." Laszlo grumbled, peering at them. Sareth leaned back away from him in reflex. The man's breath was abominable.

"My friends, this is General Lazlo of the Stag Duchy…" Vittorio gestured to the man in front. "…General Freyda of the Unicorn Duchy." The woman inclined her head politely. "And high priest Alaric of the church of Elrath."

The small man at the back said nothing, keeping his eyes on them.

"Charmed." Lethos said back, affecting an elegant bow before the three commanders. "Yes of course…" Alaric said with a half smile. "Bribe the heathen dwarves with alcohol… an inspired plan." His tone was sarcastic.

"A suggested gift, to see that they are in a negotiating mood when we come down to business is all, dear chap." Vittorio replied. "We don't want to fight with the young Prince Andrei at their mercy, do we? Wot wot?"

"I still say we ought to wait for reinforcements and then demand the boy." Laszlo said with a scowl. "If there must be negotiating done it ought to be done from a position of strength."

"The sooner we get Prince Andrei back, the better." Alaric said and then turned to look at Freyda. "Saint Isabel has put the diplomacy in your hands my dear. If you want to bring this rabble with you, it is entirely your decision."

"Thank you for remembering that." Freyda replied flatly. Sareth glanced between them quickly, noting traces of hostility. Alaric's expression was smug and self congratulatory while Freyda's was defiant and bitter. Clearly the two of them were at odds over something.

"Valeria." Alaric said suddenly and stepping forward came another figure that Sareth hadn't even noticed. She was as tall as Freyda but leaner, her blonde hair short and styled so that it covered the right hand side of her face. Like Alaric she wore red robes over her armour. Across her back was strapped a massive broadsword. Sareth was amassed she did not collapse under his weight.

"Please ensure these traders are prepared to go with Freyda to parlay in the morning." The priest told her as she looked at him, standing rigidly to attention. "Render unto her all aid within your power."

Valeria bowed at the waist lowly.

"As you command my lord." She replied and followed Freyda and the others out of the tent, Alaric's leering face staring after them.

Once they were outside, Freyda muttered a curse under her breath and spat.

"Condescending swine." She said from between clenched teeth. Valeria looked at her uncomfortably.

"You should not say such things in front of the traders, my lady." The blonde woman advised. "And within range of the troops. It would be bad for morale."

Freyda scowled and looked over the encampment.

"This entire past inquisition has been bad for morale." She muttered. "Butchering peasants on the flimsiest of suspicions."

Following her gaze and now that his attention had been called to it, Sareth did indeed perceive that many faces on the soldiers were grim and bleak. The discipline the men exhibited was the only thing keeping them together.

"Butchering?" Lethos repeated with a raised eyebrow.

"A mere consequence of putting down rebellion, I'm afraid old boy." Duke Vittorio replied a little sadly. "Those who do not listen to reason and submit to the rightful rule of the Queen have to be dealt with by other means. Inevitably there will be people who are simply in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Freyda look a long deep breath and then sighed, looking up into the sky where the first stars were beginning to make themselves known in the fading light of the sun. Her face was strained and close up Sareth could see the rings under her eyes, showing that she had not been getting that much sleep.

"Now then." She began suddenly all business. "Let us head back to your tent, Duke Vittorio and get our party organised." She looked at Lethos. "I understand you are bound for Tor Hrall?"

"Its one of our stops." The dark elf said smoothly. "We sell our wares in Tor Hrall and then make a side trip to the city Hrottar to pick up gemstones, rubies prized by the Mages in the Silver cities."

Freyda looked at him appraisingly.

"You trade in a wide range of items." She remarked. Lethos shrugged.

"Specialists are poor men. Ones income increases if you can supple a little bit of everything."

Freyda smiled and then turned to Valeria.

"Fetch these traders some arms. I want them able to defend themselves during our journey."

Valeria nodded in both acknowledgement and agreement and ducked into an armourers tent as they walked past it.

From the respectful nods and looks paid to her, Sareth was able to gather that Freyda was a respected general; idolised by both factions of Griffin troops.

"Oh my…" Freyda said when she entered the tent and found herself face to face with Adrastos as the Minotaur swung around to look at her. With her square metallic muzzle, horn guards and breast plate he looked exceedingly formidable; which of course was the point.

"My hired bodyguard." Lethos explained quickly, making an unseen gesture for the rest of their group to follow his story. "Bandits on the roads kept taking my goods without asking and so I went home to Ygg-chall to hire Adrastos here to tell them to stop. He's rather good at it."

Freyda took a moment to recover herself and bowed her head to the Minotaur. He inclined his, his horns passing down on either side of her.

"I will come to the point quickly." She said to them all, pausing to look at Graug. The gremlin grinned back at her and his eyes wandered up and down her deliberately as if he was undressing her within his own mind.

"The parlay to secure Prince Andrei is likely to last several days. I will need you to accompany me to Tor Hrall and remain there until the negotiations are over. Then you will be free to go your own way. This is acceptable?"

Leanna bowed to her.

"Perfectly acceptable, my lady." She said and behind Freyda, Lethos managed a grin at a plan coming together.

At that moment Valeria came in, leading several blacksmiths laden with small arms for their use. There were swords, small axes, daggers and maces amongst the offers weaponry. Sareth needed no weapon, he still had the Dragon flame tongue sword with him; wrapped up to preserve the legendary relics identity.

He was still not completely comfortable with the sword and was still reluctant to use it, lest he be once more overcome with that terrifying bloodlust he had experienced once before but he would not fear it anymore. Leanna took a short sword and Havez took a mace, both mostly for appearances sake the two of them being accomplished mages.

Lethos was about to refuse a weapon but then he spotted a particularly nice dagger. It had a golden hilt with a pommel made of a polished sapphire. The blade was about the length of his hand and had a neat grove running down the middle. This he gleefully took and paused to admire it.

When Valeria turned to give Graug a weapon, she started, as if surprised to find a gremlin standing there at all.

Graug looked her over from top to bottom, ignoring her surprised look.

"I always heard the Griffin Empire was a stuffy, puritan kind of place." He said. "I'll admit I was wrong here and now if they let girls like this into their army." He made a kissy gesture at her.

Valeria blanched and stiffened indignantly.

"I am an Imperial knight and the first daughter of Lord Fulbert of the Wolf Duchy!" She said haughtily. "How dare to talk to me like I'm some sort of tavern wench!"

"Tavern wenches don't have such lovely legs." Graug retorted.

"That's quite enough of that, Graug." Havez said, grabbing the gremlin by the back of his fur coat and dragging him back out of reach before he could offend the woman any further.

Valeria, who was blushing bright red, turned and stalked from the tent, indigtant.

"I say, she's a proper temper on her, eh what?" Duke Vittorio asked, giving Graug a fly sideways glance.

Graug grinned back evily.

"We're honoured to assist the Griffin Empire in this matter." Lethos remarked once Freyda had outlined her mission to find and extradite the young Griffin prince. Once past the wall of Arkath they would go straight to Tor Hrall to speak with the head of the Winterwind clan, a dwarf by the name of Wulstan who according to their intelligence had had contact with the rogue lord Duncan who had Prince Andrei.

Freyda's intent was to persuade him, and if necessary bribe him, to reveal where Duncan and the boy were and if possible to acquire his aid in retrieving the prince.

Freyda paused and then sighed.

"We are a far cry from the time of my father's exploits in the last demon war, when the sight of Griffin troops inspired hope. Now people hide from us as we pass each settlement." She looked the dark elf straight in the eye. "My advice to you, trader, is to keep the fact you cooperated with us secret. It would do your business no good in these times."

The night passed sleepless, a thick aura of anticipation hanging over the entire encampment.

Sareth lay on a cot trying to sleep and only succeeding in memorising the ceiling of the tent above him.

When he had set himself on a path out from under the influence of the demon cult, this was the last he really expected to end up; in an Imperial army on the brink of a possible war.

He thought about the cultists and their need for him what role they would have him perform if they ever caught him. They would make use of that dark, savage side to his nature that he had felt growing inside him he was certain of that now.

Raelag had said that he was not entirely human, that one of his parents had been some other force.

Had they bred him like some sort of horse or dog? Was he even the first attempt at creating a hybrid?

Softly he felt her slide across his body, a phantasm of pure sensation that solidified into flesh only when she had her arms wrapped around him.

When she was solid enough to touch, Sareth wordlessly gathered her up as well and held Xana close to him. They said nothing to each other, communicating with impressions alone not even coherent thoughts. He still could not sleep but her presence with him made his insomnia bearable.

He felt from her all the reassurance and comfort he could ever seen to combat the dark doubts that plagued his mind and found that he did indeed have something to thank Phenrig for after all.


	18. Part 4, chapter 17

Chapter 17

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The lingering warmth of summer was gone the next morning, a biting cold north wind blowing down from the distant peaks carrying with it a thick frost that made the ground underfoot crunch.

Sareth pulled up the thick woollen coat around him as he rode on horse back, a beast having been offered by Freyda, alongside their convoy as they made their way towards the wall of Arkath which loomed higher and higher before them.

Freyda was in the lead, with her two peers Laszlo and Alaric beside her. A little behind them came the Duke Vittorio, riding to see them as far as the border.

Behind them rode about three regiments of paladin knights in full armour with banners flapping from their lances. The convoy itself with the pack train came next and Sareth rode alongside this, keeping pace with Lethos' reptilian mount. The large lizard did not seem to care for the cold weather and its legs and tail were wrapped in furs strapped down by a harness.

Behind them came a detachment of foot soldiers, all of them wearing white robes instead of red and managing to keep up despite the pace set by those on foot. As they drew closer to the wall Sareth could see that it was made of a curious red stone. The seems in the wall were the separate blocks met was so fine that not even a knife blade could be driven between them. About fifty feet up from the ground, small arrow silts opened up and Sareth could the distinct impression that their approach was being monitored.

Lethos took a long deep breath and pulled the hood of his cloak up over his head.

"Cold?" Leanna asked from his other side.

"Relations between my people and the dwarves are not exactly cordial." The dark elf replied. "I do not want them to get excited by seeing me."

Directly in the centre of the wall was a massive iron door, engraved in the visage of a scowling bearded face and buffed to a mirror shine. When they were about ten feet from the gate, Freyda held up her hand to order them to stop and the column ground to a halt; the armour of the foot soldiers clinking as they caught up.

Time dragged on as they waited, staring up at the metal face before them that Sareth irrationally felt was glaring at them in disapproval.

"Discourteous midgets." Laszlo muttered, clenching the reins of his horse. "They make us wait in this cold. I should surely like to chastise them for their rudeness."

"I will mention it to Saint Isabel, but not now Laszlo." Alaric remarked and then frowned. "Besides, here they come now."

There was loud, echoing rumble as if from the turning of tremendous gears as slowly the gate parted and swung inwards. Behind it there was a long stone passageway leading through the middle of a fortress that was part of the wall itself, many portcullis' baring the way forward.

Marching forward from the gate, wadding through the long grass came the dwarves. Sareth had seen an occasional dwarf before, mostly traders and merchants that came to barter in the village near Phenrig's estate but that was no substitute for seeing Shieldguard's for the first time.

Like all dwarfs, they were short and stout, perhaps about half the height of a man although appearing like any other human otherwise. They all had beards elaborately braided, no one type of braid the same and they wore armour only across their shoulders and head. Under this they wore their clan kilt buckled at the waist, blood red with gold stitching creating an intricate pattern down to their feet.

The shield that gave them their name was strapped to their left arm and was the length of their entire body; shaped like an hourglass and engraved with runs around the outside edge.

For a weapon they each held a pick, elegantly shaped like the arching beak of some bird of prey.

They stood straight, their backs stiff and their faces proud; as if the might of all of the dwarfs of Grimheim stood ready to back them up.

Lethos turned his face down and hunched as if trying to be inconspicuous. Atop his lizard mount he failed.

Freyda moved her horse forward into a trot for a short distance and stopped as the dwarves formed a line in front of her.

One of them came forward.

"Speak quickly human." The dwarf said in a gruff voice, giving her a glare from over the rim of his shield. The suspicion and hostility was clear in his voice, not unjustified as the dwarfs could not have helped but seen the army encamped not even an hour's march from their border.

That same wary suspicion was reflected in the faces of the other dwarves as well.

Freyda blows her head in respect.

"May the light of Elrath illuminate your path and the fires of Arkath light your forge." She said to them ceremonially, overload so that the other dwarfs would hear her. A few glances were exchanged by the Shieldguards an there was a mellowing about their manner and the leading dwarf seemed slightly taken aback by her polite greeting.

"Er.. and yours." He said, taking a moment to collect himself. Then he straightened and addressed her in kind. "The dwarves of Grimheim bid you welcome. Now what do you want?"

Sareth kept his eyes on Alaric during this exchange, Xana's warning about the priest not forgotten. The man was merely staring at the lead dwarf with a scowl.

"To be allowed to go to Tor Hrall, to speak with your leaders about a diplomatic matter." Freyda replied and the Dwarf looked between her and the staring priest sceptically, a frown making his beard sway.

"There are rules – always have been." He said and his tone was firm. "A toll must be paid and no more then two battalions of troops."

Alaric's expression became indignant at such conditions.

"Why?" He demanded leaning forward in his saddle. "We are here on a mission of peace, bringing the blessings of Elrath."

The dwarf did not look impressed.

"Bring all the blessings you want but none of those brimstone smelling red thugs." The Shieldguard declared, gesturing with his pick between those soldiers wearing red robes and those wearing white ones.

Freyda did not appear annoyed by these conditions for passage but actually rather pleased, perhaps Sareth wondered, at having Alaric's nose put out.

"I will pay your toll." She said, apparently anticipating a fee for entering. She gestured back and two foot soldiers came forward, carrying two wooden chests between them. These they laid on the ground before the dwarves. They unlocked the lids and pulled them open, the early morning light glittering on the contents; a heaped mix of gold coins and cut gemstones along with two bottles of the finest brandy Havez had had in the packs.

"Is this sufficient payment?" Freyda asked, keeping her tone neutral despite her smile. The eyes of every dwarf widened at the sight of the gold before them and their speaker came forward, picked up a coin and studied it. He even went so far as to bite it to ensure it was real.

"Oh aye, that it is!" He declared, nodding back to his fellows. "Once you have your escort sorted out come forward and you will be admitted through the gate." He turned and two more dwarves came forward to collect the fee.

Freyda looked back over her shoulder at Alaric, who's face was set in stern disapproving lines.

"Alaric. I will return with the prince." She told him.

"I do not like this. They are treating us like servants!" He snapped in reply. "Demanding a toll from the Griffin Empire, the troops of Saint Isabel… barbaric heathens! They should show respect for that which is superior."

"It's their land." Freyda replied.

"They will regret their greed and their arrogance when Grimheim is an imperial province." Laszlo commented dryly and with a strange hunger in his eyes. That earned him a few startled looks but thankfully the Dwarves were too busy carting their fee back into their fortress to notice.

"Keep Laszlo's reigns tight. I will be back as soon as possible." Freyda said and looked back to survey her troops. From them she picked out one formation of Paladin knights and one battalion of Squire foot soldiers, all of them wearing the white robes leaving the majority of the red robed soldiers with Alaric and Lazlo.

"Toodle pip old chaps." Duke Vittorio said in cheerful farewell as Freyda organised her escort. "If I ever get the need for an honest merchant man I'll look up the services of the Ashan trading consortium."

"What's he going to do when he finds out it doesn't exist?" Graug asked in an undertone to Havez. The wizard only smiled

"Come." She said, gesturing to the caravan train behind them. Havez nodded and flicked the reins he was holding down onto the rump of the mare directly in front. Slowly the procession of wagons and men began forward.

"Hold it!" One of the dwarves started, striding up to the lizard mount Lethos was riding. Sareth breathed in sharply as the Dwarf reaches up and pulled the hood back, exposing the dark elves face.

"Ygg-chall scum!" The bearded little man snarled as Lethos managed his most disarming expression. The dwarves all stared at the dark elf and then turned to look with savage accusation at Freyda. The entire caravan stopped and there was a sudden tense atmosphere.

Sareth flinched, resting one hand automatically on the hilt of the Dragon Flame Tongue at his side.

"Dear noble sirs of the mountain, I am but a simple trader." Lethos began into the uncomfortable silence. "I mean you no harm." He leaned back quickly as a dwarf held his pick-axe directly in front of his face.

"Not a word from you, dark elf."

"He speaks the truth." Freyda said reassuringly to the ruffled dwarves. "He is just a merchant with me to see his wares."

"With a Minotaur taskmaster?" One of them asked sceptically, gesturing towards the towering Adrastos who was not paying attention to the dwarves at all.

"Aggh just search him and his packs Olaf." Another dwarf called over, busy helping bring the two chests of treasure inside the fortress. "He's not the first one we let in who was a little fishy anyway. And yah didn't complain about that rotting wizard a few days ago."

Olaf, if that was his name, grunted and then gestured with his pickaxe for Lethos to get down off his mount. Lethos complied and the Dwarves methodically began to search his clothes, others going through those packs of personal belongings on the cart. Sareth held his breath eyes wide; knowing full well that Lethos carried with him at all times several dozen verities of poisons and daggers. If those were found their entire mission would be jeopardised.

Yet the dwarves found nothing, not even that special dagger Lethos had picked up back in the encampment.

Catching Sareth's startled look, Lethos smiled and winked at him.

"He's spotless." Olaf the dwarf was eventually forced to admit and grudgingly stepped side. "Alright you can go on through but we'll be watching you dark elf, so no funny business."

"I bow to the wisdom and generosity of the mountain lords." Lethos replied, remounting his reptilian beast. Once again the procession began forward towards the gate unimpeded.

"Ok, how did you do that?" Havez demanded, leaning across to whisper to the dark elf as the gate loomed high above them.

"Trade secret." Lethos replied with his smile widening into a grin. As they neared, the various portcullises that ran the length of the tunnel that marked the entrance to dwarf land rising up out of their way with the grinding of gears coming from above. The tunnel was made of the same red stone as the rest of the wall, engraved with a pattern of runes that ran across the curved ceiling and almost seemed to form pictures. It was wide enough for them all to ride their mounts through along with space for those on foot to walk on either side.

Freyda lead the way confident, pointedly ignoring the side corridors that branched out to either side where small grounds of armed dwarves stood watching them as they rode past.

Sareth's attention however was distracted. He turned in his saddle to one of the dwarves who was escorting them through the tunnel.

"Excuse me." He began and the small man looked up. "But I heard one of you say you let a rotting wizard come through before."

"Oh aye, that one." The dwarf replied making a disgusted face. "Pale skinned bugger he was. But he paid the toll so we had no cause to complain."

Leanna, who had been riding nearby, apparently came to the same conclusion that Sareth had.

"A necromancer?" She asked.

"Yup." The dwarf confirmed, completely ignorant of the intense unease that was settled on the faces of those around him. "Had a funny sounding name…. Arant…Aron…" He fumbled trying to remember and pronounce it at the same time.

"Arantir?" Leanna asked with a note of fear in her voice. The dwarf clicks his fingers.

"Ah aye lass that was it! Arantir!" He chuckled, running his fat fingers through his blonde beard. "Said he had business with the Stonefist Clan. Can't see why myself, hard headed bastards, the lot of them.

Sareth only heard his diatribe peripherally. Arantir was here already? There could be only one reason for him to make a journey into Grimheim and that was to retrieve the Shantiri crystal, there was nothing else of worth here. He still did not know what function these crystals might have but Arantir's willingness to come after this one verified Raelag's assertion of the crystals worth.

Were they too late? Did the necromancer have the crystal already?

"There is no reason to assume that." Xana told him silently, speaking to him with her mind. "All we know is that he's been here, beyond that nothing has changed."

Sareth mused over it as their company neared the end of the tunnel and eventually decided that she was right. If they learned more in Tor Hrall then they could change their strategy.

The land beyond the Wall of Arkath did not look much different from the other side, the same grass and thick trees leading up a narrow gully into the mountains. Once beyond the wall however they were hit a bitingly cold wind that struck them full the face.

It was a howling gale, chilled by the snow on the peaks above and whistling through the narrow stone passages.

Lethos' reptilian mount shivered despite the furs it was wearing in the face of that wind.

"Sar-Elam's toenails that's cold!" Graug proclaimed, pulling his thick fur cover tighter around himself. Havez himself, who prudently had exchanged his orange silk robes for thick leather and fur before they had set out, drew in his shoulders and frowned.

"Tor Hrall is two leagues up the mountain." The escorting dwarf told them. "Once you get over the ridge you will be able to see it. Don't deviate from the path up away from the wall or as you approach the city. If you act odd you're more then likely to end up with a body full of harpoons." He made a sort of jabbing motion with his pick for emphasis.

"Understood." Freyda replied simply and nudged her horse into a canter, her escort moving up to follow after her as she started towards the gravel filled ravine.

The climb up the steeply slopping mountain to the high plateau above was slow going; the path winding back and forth around rocky pinnacles that stuck up from the foothills like jagged crocodiles teeth.

The higher they climbed the colder it got, as if they were moving closer towards the source of the wind coming from off the mountaintops.

The soldiers in their armour and their leather undershirts were definitely feeling the cold, the metal of their grab clattering against itself as they shivered. Even Adrastos seemed slightly torpid, moving more sluggishly then usual. The only once who seemed not the slightest bit affected by the cold was Xana. Hardly any environment affected her.

"Think those dwarves are still watching us?" Havez asked across to Lethos, glancing back at the wall of Arkath. They were nearing the top of the ravine now and from this height the wall seemed small, a thin barrier marking the border. Beyond that a green carpet of fields and forest rolled endlessly away to the southern horizon.

"Of course they are." The dark elf said in a resigned tone. "Their harpooners are probably hidden among the rocks ready to hurl a javelin at us." He grinned. "That's their favourite time of long range weapon. They don't waste time with bows and arrows when they can forge spear heads."

Sareth began to develop a very uncomfortable sensation between his shoulder blades and he could almost imagine he was seeing hidden furtive moment behind every outcropping of stone they past. He did his best to tell himself it was all in his mind but he still felt jumpy.

At about noon they reached the top of the ravine and came out onto the top of the cliff and from this vantage point all of the jagged country of Grimheim was laid out before them.

Mountain range rose and fell, crisscrossing so much that the land was little more the succession of tight valleys running between the peeks. Sareth found himself picturing a colossal clawed hand reaching down and tearing its talons through the ground to make those valleys. Those deep valleys where the only places where there was any greenery, mostly pine and spruce and over evergreens.

Above these came the snow, thick drifts piled as high as files and giving the land a lumpy sort of appearance. Occasionally there were a few dusted trees and rock but apart from that it was all snow and ice, covering the land to the distance northern horizon.

"Only the dwarves could find such a land homely." Lethos sighed, pulling his hood back up perhaps to protect his pointed ears from the cold. To Sareth it seemed strangely ironic that the worshippers of the dragon of fire would make as their homeland a frozen mixed land of mountains, valleys and tundra.

The border city garrison of Tor Hrall was not hard to locate. Its spires, made of that same curious red stone, jutted up out of the nearest valley perhaps two miles away. Sareth supposed it had to be that close in order to keep the Wall of Arkath fortress supplied with food.

There was a path beaten towards it through a short ravine free of snow and Freyda directed their column onwards.

It took them another hour to reach the city but when they did it was a sight to see and even the sober Adrastos gave a snort of approval. Known as the gateway to the Dwarven Kingdom, Tor-Hrall was a major centre of commerce and it showed. The gates of the walls were beautifully engraved and lined with gold and precious jewels and as they swung wide to admit their column they were welcomed by the sight of rich vibrant market.

This was the first time Sareth had been to a dwarven city but he had read about them extensively so knew what to expect. Other races built up and out when they constructed settlements but the dwarves built down into the earth. Their towns resembled concave bites that sank deep into the earth connecting the cities on the surface with the more extensive complexes deeper down.

The buildings were constructed around the edge of the pit in rings that made levels, each one being delegated to a different purpose. The upper most rings were filled with markets, stalls and warehouses and shops.

Beneath them were what looked like rows of living quarters with windows opened out to look down into the pit which so far as Sareth could see had no bottom.

Perhaps somewhere down there might be the Shantiri crystal.

"You'd think they risk flood and landslide with something like this." Havez remarked as they entered, walking over a floor that was an extensive mural with elaborate rune like patterns.

Lethos shook his head.

"Not the dwarves. Nothing they build ever falls down unless you've got siege weapons." His tone was strangely admiring.

They dismounted from their beasts which were stationed in an easy accessed pen and then on foot they proceeded down several flights of wide stone stairs, the dwarves of the city giving their armed party a wide berth. There were curious glances coming from almost every direction.

The chamber they were led to was probably a general audience room and while individual members of the deputation were allowed inside their foot soldiers were told pointedly to remain at the door. The two armoured dwarves with axes made that very clear.

Like the rest of the city it was engraved with runes on nearly every wall, no one surface the same as another. Braziers were burning on rectangular pillars that lanced from the floor to the arched ceiling above, and along the walls intermixed with long banners that bore the emblem of the clan..

A long stone table that was attached to the floor ran the length of the hall and at the far end was a throne like seat, two more large braziers burning on either side of it.

Standing just before was a dwarf and Sareth knew instantly that he was the clan leader. He couldn't say how he knew, he just did.

The dwarf was average sized for his race, brown skinned from exposure to the sun and red haired, almost orange. His hair and beard were done up in several long braids entwined with green silk ribbons.

He wore chain mail and shoulder guards but the rest of his attire was made of furs with the pelts styled to match the red of his beard.

"Wulfstan, the clan leader of the Winterwind Dwarves." Lethos muttered to Sareth in a confidential tone. "That one over there is his half brother, Rolf."

Sareth glanced over to see a second dwarf standing off to one side. The two of them were clearly brothers there was no mistaking the facial resemblance.

Rolf's hair however was jet black and his hairline had receded back. He wore full armour and a thick fur cape down his back which looked like it had once been the pelt of a bear.

Freyda inclined her head to the two dwarves and Wulfstan smiled and bowed back. Rolf only glared at the humans in his court with obvious animosity.

"Well now lass, what brings you all the way from sunny Talonguard?" He asked and Sareth found himself liking the sound of the dwarves voice, for no reason he could rationally explain.

"Lord Wulstan, I am Freyda of her majesties Imperial armies."

"Well that's a relief, if you weren't then I'd have made a mistake and I like to avoid those whenever I can." A few humans chuckled and there was a general relaxing of tension.

Rolf shot a disgusted sidelong glance at his brother but Wulfstan ignored the look.

"My lord." Freyda carried on. "We are here to extradite a young prince Andrei of our realm who was kidnapped by a renegade Duke and then taken into your territory, and to bring the traitor, Duke Duncan to justice."

Wulfstan's expression did not change but there was something about the way he looked at her, pity mixed with wry amusement.

"Little Andrei….kidnapped?" He asked with a shake of his head. "Lass, someone's been spinning you a tall yarn."

Freyda looked up at him in surprise and confusion as well she might.

"And besides, if your gonna go around charging an old friend of mine with despicable acts like that, you ought at least let him answer the charges." He paused to call back over his shoulder. "What do you think?"

"Couldn't agree more, my friend." A new and clearly non-dwarvish voice said and out from around the back of the stone seat strode a man with short length brown hair and a green cloak. Freyda drew in her breath shortly and Sareth certainly understood why.

Sareth had seen the man's face before while growing up, often on posters in travelling merchant caravans.

Duke Falcon, the man who supposedly kidnapped the prince.


End file.
